A Captain's Promise
by Elidyr Cloudwell
Summary: A once-every-five-hundred-years event forces Ichigo into wearing the haori of the Third Squad, making him one of the captains of the Thirteen Court Guardians. When he assumed the temporary position unwillingly, he finds that the hardest task he has was the one he wasn't assigned to do—to gain the trust of Kira Izuru and heal the grudging heart of the betrayed lieutenant.
1. Prologue - Abduction

**Warnings for the occasional bad language (which tends to flare up suddenly when our characters get too riled up and stuff), and the lemony goodness that we all know is going to happen one way or another. This warning goes for the entire story by the way, not just this chapter. You have been warned.**

**I will be using a few Japanese terms in this fic. They shouldn't present any problem if you've watched the anime in the original dub or are familiar with the terms from other fics. At any rate, if I introduce something relatively uncommon, I'll include a translation in the notes.**

**Welcome to the world of Ichigo and Izuru, dear reader. With my sincerest hopes that you enjoy, I present to you **_**A Captain's Promise**_**.**

**Elidyr.**

* * *

**Prologue**

_**Abduction**_

"_Getsuga Tensho_!"

I braced Zangetsu in front of me again as I watched the gigantic hollow lose its balance when the arcing black light hit it right in its ugly face. The thick white material covering the lower half of its face down to the upper regions of its chest cracked under the massive force, but the damage wasn't enough to break the mask entirely. My eyebrow twitched slightly—these damn bastards lately surely were tougher than usual.

"Rukia, _now_!" I yelled, ignoring the sweat trickling down my temples. I would have finished the job myself, but it was kinda hard to fire another Getsuga when I was too busy avoiding the hollow's thrashing and flailing limbs.

A little figure jumped up the nearest post nimbly, avoiding one of the hollow's enormous tentacles as it whipped around, and gripped her katana tightly. An unnatural cold breeze blew sharply as the female shinigami gracefully tapped her katana's point into the plane before her, drawing four glittering trails of ice in a slow, graceful motion.

I watched in quiet awe as reiatsu swelled around her, concentrating at the point of the pure white katana she held.

She took a deep breath and drew her sword back, her body angling into a beautiful battle stance. Her wide eyes were like pools of water—calm and deep and beautiful. Then a gleam passed over it.

"_Tsugi no Mai, Hakuren_!"

There was a split-second of silence, then a ferocious hail of snow and ice flared towards the hollow. I flash-stepped away from the vicinity as its massive body was slowly encased in diamond-hard ice, the edges sharp as blades. It didn't take long before the deafening growls stopped, and the hollow finally disintegrated into glittery ashes.

Grinning, I jumped back down to the ground using unsuspecting people's houses, careful not to break roof tiles and windows. Not too long after, Rukia and I were back in the alley where we were talking about relatively mundane things _before_ the hollow suddenly showed up.

She was dusting her skirt mechanically when I walked up to her, her usual thoughtful expression pulling her brows together. She was already back in her gigai.

We were on the way back to the house when a sharp rip in the sky caught our attention, followed by the appearance of a hollow with a colossal body and elongated tentacle-like limbs. This hollow was almost thrice as big as the usual hollows that have been popping out ever since Aizen defected, and apparently stronger than ever too. However, it was still no match for our coordinated moves.

I blinked out of that line of thought when I felt a light tug on my sleeve. Rukia was looking at me expectantly, tapping her foot on the ground. It occurred to me just then that I've never told her yet how comfortable she seemed to be in our school uniform—the pleated gray skirt, the white blouse, the long sleeved gray coat, the red ribbon, and even the knee-length black socks that she favored.

"Snap out of it, Ichigo," she said, waving a hand over my face suddenly. "Are you hurt somewhere?"

I shook my head at her. "That was really beautiful," I grinned at her, thinking about her unique stance from earlier.

I've always been fascinated by Sode no Shirayuki's techniques and their activation, but today's seemed more graceful than usual. She made it look like an art, but I knew the power of the recoil from the technique she just used—I really have to give it to her, hands down, for being able to look so elegant under tremendous pressure.

Not even seconds later, her foot shot out to kick me in the shins. I dodged it cleanly though, having expected it in the first place. I didn't really know why, but it seemed to me that the adopted Kuchiki had a weakness for praises, which she tries to hide with well-placed kicks.

I tried my damnedest not to laugh, but I failed to bite back a chuckle at the thought, making her flash her wide—and _intimidating_—eyes at me.

"Good job, Rukia," I smiled widely at her, mussing her hair with one hand.

"Shut up," she snapped, biting back a smile of her own. "You too—good job, Ichigo."

We continued to walk in relative silence. The only sound was the rustling of wind through the trees in the neighborhood, and the soft tune I was whistling under my breath. I wasn't even sure where I picked the tune up—I woke up this morning with the vague melody stuck in my head. If I was being honest though, I had to say that I thought I've heard it in Seireitei before…

As we rounded another corner, Rukia's communicator started ringing.

"Hollow? _Where_?" I asked before she could even take the phone out of her pocket. I really wanted to get it over with at once so I can go home and eat—I was bushed.

"Calm down, Ichigo," she muttered, placing a hand on my chest to stop me from leaning over too closely. I grumbled lightly, earning another sharp gaze from her, which I promptly ignored. Rolling her eyes, she pushed a button and put the phone on her ear. "Hello?"

I made a face as I straightened up and proceeded to watch impatiently as Rukia answered the call. It wasn't often that she got a call on that communicator. Usually, it was just a hollow alert on a map of Karakura set on a grid.

Fortunately, I didn't have to wait for long before knowing what the call was about.

"Are you…sure?" Rukia suddenly asked, her voice low and serious. I quickly looked over, noting the way her already small mouth was set into a straight line. "Alright, then. I'll leave it to you."

She held out the phone to me before I could ask what was going on.

"Just take it, Ichigo," she said.

Reluctantly, I held the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Kurosaki-kun," the familiar voice said—in an _unfamiliar_ tone.

It was exceedingly rare to hear Urahara speaking in such a grim tone. As in, apocalypse-happening-right-now kind of rare. There were only a few reasons in my mind why Urahara would sound like that, and none of them were good. A chill ran down my spine briefly as I thought of the possibilities…

Aizen might have finally declared war with Soul Society—not that he didn't _already_ do when he defected, but still.

Or he might have attacked Soul Society at last… Or walked into Seireitei with an army right at his tail…

I shuddered at the mental images. Without having to hear anything else, I knew at once that whatever it was that was happening, it was definitely bad. _Urahara Kisuke_ did not speak with a voice this somber for _nothing_.

"Hello…? Kurosaki-kun?" his voice crackled from the receiver.

I snapped out of my grim thoughts. "Urahara-san," I said, swallowing uneasily—I could see Rukia looking at me apprehensively from the corner of my eyes. "What's going on?"

For a moment, there was only a faint scratching sound—I could almost see the former Captain scratching his chin with his paper fan. I bit back a nervous growl.

"Urahara-san…just spit it out, alright?" I said through clenched teeth. "_Tell_ me."

There was a sigh. "Kurosaki-kun, you need to go to Soul Society_ at once_."

My imagination launched into overdrive immediately. "Soul Society? But w—"

Urahara coughed deliberately, cutting through my question. "We've already notified your family. Your sisters are under the impression that you will be attending a…er, school trip. For the next few days, at the very least."

"_School trip_," I repeated dubiously. I chose to ignore the fact that he took it upon himself to meddle with my own business _again _before I was even notified of things, but this was _Urahara Kisuke_ we're talking about—he would do as he pleased. So I focused on the more immediate stuff instead. "What the hell's going on? Why do I need to go there? A few days? What's happening, Urahara-san?"

There was a lengthy silence. "Soul Society is in grave danger."

* * *

Gripping the phone with enough force to break it were it a normal one, I looked around just in time to see a _jigokuchou_ fluttering away from Rukia.

"Ichigo," she started, stepping over to my side quickly. The uncharacteristic look was still on her face, her brows furrowed in complicated thoughts. "I need to go back to Soul Society as soon as possible."

My eyes widened. "Eh? Me too."

Then I realized something—if Rukia was being summoned back despite the fact that she was the only shinigami officially assigned to man Karakura at the moment, then things have got to be _really_ bad.

I was starting to get nervous, that's for sure. "Let's go together, Rukia."

Instead of agreeing at once, Rukia just fidgeted—much to my surprise. I felt my eyebrow twitch again as I took in the awkward tension that suddenly hung between us. _What the hell_…things were getting weirder by the moment.

"_What_?" I demanded, half-glaring at her. "What are you not saying?"

Rukia immediately held up her hands, shaking her head slightly. "No! That's _not_ it—I'm not hiding anything, alright? _Just_—Well, I'm…" she trailed off suddenly. And yep, she was definitely fidgeting.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "_Rukia…_"

"I'm headed to the Kuchiki estate," she breathed, looking away sharply.

"Oh…" was all I managed to say for a while. _Right_—Kuchiki estate. Which translated to _I'm going to see Nii-sama_.

I remembered that the Kuchikis had a private _Senkaimon_. And if Rukia was headed there, then…Byakuya probably won't appreciate my presence. Not that I minded, of course, but I figured now was not the time to play games with Byakuya and his bankai.

"The _jigokuchou_ was from Nii-sama. He wants me to go back to the estate as soon as possible," Rukia explained further. "Apparently, there's an urgent matter in Seireitei and—"

I almost jumped when I was suddenly reminded of my very cryptic conversation with Urahara and the man's vague explanations about an impending danger. Without wasting time, I quickly explained everything to Rukia, including my theory that our immediate summons back to Seireitei has got to be connected somehow.

"I don't know any more than you do, to be honest," Rukia said, her eyebrows meeting together as she thought about it. "It's not like Urahara-san to say something is in grave danger if it's not, but…"

My thoughts were so wrapped around different scenes of Aizen attacking the shinigamis that it was a while before I noticed Rukia's contemplating look.

"What?"

She just shook her head. "Nothing."

When I opened my mouth to push the question, Rukia kicked me again. This time, she _didn't_ miss.

"_Dammit_! What was that for?" I groaned indignantly, clutching my knee. Rukia might look like a midget, but she was still a shinigami who could easily break bones with a single hit.

By the time I was able to put down my foot without sharp tingles running up my leg, Rukia was already drawing her sword. She turned to me with a glare when she noticed me looking.

"Idiot. I told you I need to go back to Soul Society at once."

I pursed my lips at her. "Yeah… Urahara-san also told me to go to his shop."

"Go, Ichigo." She patted me once on the shoulder—which was a surprising thing given her height—then opened a _Senkaimon_ with a graceful twist of Sode no Shirayuki. "I'll see you later."

The black butterfly fluttered shortly before her, then she was gone.

* * *

I stood before the makeshift _Senkaimon_ at the basement of the Urahara Shoten, looking apprehensive. A few steps to the side, the former Captain just looked at me, licking a largish pink lollipop. I've said earlier that I could just open one up for myself and go to Soul Society that way, but Urahara just laughed at me. He spouted some crap about my zanpakuto not being _authorized_ to open a _Senkaimon_ or something.

"You said this is connected to the big one in Seireitei?" I asked again, fighting the urge to punch Urahara in the face.

"Yep."

To my extreme annoyance, Urahara told me nothing when I asked him what was going on in Soul Society. The man just said that I should see for himself. _Damn bastard_.

"But they're in _danger_, you said," I said through gritted teeth.

"Yes yes, they're very frantic right now, and they need you to go there at once in order to help them out," Urahara explained in a singsong voice, waving the lollipop around in a carefree manner. I wanted to pry it off his hands and shove it into his ears so badly I could have sworn my hands were shaking. "They're in dire need of manpower right now, and they need _you_ to help them sort things out."

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed instead. I had to remind myself that even if this man was looking, sounding and acting like a clown, he once stood among captains and remains to be a brilliant shinigami. But seriously, who wouldn't have trouble taking a man seriously if he said things in a conspicuously doubtful manner?

"Kurosaki-kun, you should hurry," Urahara said, interrupting my annoyed thoughts.

At that moment, I seriously considered drawing Zangetsu and using it to slice his striped hat—and maybe him too—into pieces, and I was well aware it showed in my face. I didn't even know what was stopping me—it wasn't like human police was going to be after me for murdering a nonexistent person. But I didn't—I wasn't going to admit that maybe I _couldn't_.

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he sang, the twinkle in his eyes more pronounced than ever.

_My_ eyes narrowed at the statement. To think that he had insisted earlier that he knew nothing about why I was being summoned—not that I didn't know Urahara was lying, of course. There was nothing the man didn't know, I was sure.

"Go on," he coaxed, waving a hand lazily.

Stepping into the shabby-looking gate, I threw Urahara one last dirty look. I hoped he got the message—if things turned out to be ugly, I was so going back to kill him.

"Good luck, Kurosaki-kun," was the last thing he said through the infuriatingly goofy smile before the gate disappeared behind me.

* * *

Walking quickly through the unrelenting darkness of the Severed World, I tried not to overanalyze things. If there was one thing Urahara said that was true, it was that I would find out what was happening soon enough. But even so, I just couldn't shake the eerie glint in the blonde's eyes off my mind.

That kind of look on Urahara could only mean a few things, just as his somber tone did. The maddening part was that, even though there were only a limited number of reasons, it wasn't like they were _easy_ to guess.

"_Dammit_," I growled, tripping yet again.

The jigokuchou flew just a few paces in front of me, helping a bit—I could barely see the black wings in the dark, but the soft flutter of its wings was enough for me to follow. But _still_…can't they install torches here or something? It was awfully dark in here. Instead of butterflies, they would have done infinitely better if they used fireflies.

Fortunately, I reached the outline of a gigantic door soon. _Just about time_, I thought irritably.

I sighed loudly as I leaned on the exit—this might be the first time I've walked through the Severed World without getting chased by the Capturing Ram. After allowing myself a brief smile, I straightened up and pushed open the heavy doors.

I scrunched my eyes shut almost immediately as the blinding brightness of the afternoon sun flooded over me. I've forgotten that Soul Society wouldn't be as dark as the Severed World, distracted as I was.

My vision was just starting to adjust when…

…the _unthinkable_ happened.

"_Seize him_!" a deep, authoritative voice barked.

My eyes immediately flew open in surprise, my hand instinctively darting towards the handle of my sword behind my back. But it was too late, I realized—I was already firmly restrained by members of the Onmitsukidou.

"What's the meaning of this?" I demanded angrily, trying to shake their hands off me.

Strong grips were bending my arms behind my back, and I could no longer feel the familiar weight of Zangetsu resting on the dip between my shoulder blades. When I tried flailing my legs, I realized with a sinking feeling that they have restrained me thoroughly.

"Release me _at once_!" I yelled again, refusing to just go down without a fight or something.

Needless to say, their hold on me was firm and unyielding—not to mention that I was totally caught offguard. I had no doubt I could force them off me if I really wanted to, but _should_ I?

"Kurosaki Ichigo, we are hereby taking you into custody," Soifon announced smugly, stepping into my line of sight with deliberate slowness, as if to intimidate me. Behind her stood in attention half of the Second Squad.

My eyes went wide as I processed what she just said. "What _is_ this? What's _happening_?"

A messenger wearing a roof-shaped hat appeared behind the slim captain in a flash. I struggled to hear what the messenger was saying, but of course I heard nothing. _Dammit_.

Soifon's eyes glinted—not unlike Urahara's—as she turned to me with a triumphant look on her features.

"Take him to the Soutaichou!"

* * *

By the time my surroundings stopped spinning enough for me to form a coherent thought and actually speak them, I was already being marched into the hall outside the room where the captains' meetings were held.

Running out of patience, I shook them all off me forcibly and turned to Soifon angrily. "I can walk on my own. You didn't have to drag me here if the Old Man wants to talk to me."

With a smirk, Soifon opened the door and stepped inside. "Believe me, we _have_ to," she muttered before leaving me standing there like an idiot.

I followed inside the large room mechanically, my eyes narrowing further as I saw the captains lined up before the Soutaichou. An inexplicable nervous feeling struck me again, but I couldn't place it. I looked around me warily.

Soifon was already on her place near the front, smirking at me. Byakuya and Kurotsuchi were both looking very bored, as if they'd rather be minding their own business at the moment. Unohana-taichou, Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou were all throwing me off me with gentle, encouraging smiles—what the hell was that for?

Toushirou was just looking at me with a benign expression. Komamura-taichou, on the other hand, was studying me from head to foot, like I was some kind of racing horse being auctioned. But at least it was better than the look Kenpachi was giving me—the Eleventh Squad Captain looked like he wanted to have a go right away, if it weren't for the fact that we were in the presence of the Soutaichou. But even that restraint looked like it was reaching its limits.

"How long do you intend to stand there, Kurosaki Ichigo?" the oldest shinigami in the room—maybe even in Soul Society—bellowed, making my ears ring. "Hurry up and enter. We do not have all day."

I immediately bristled at the treatment, but after a moment of internal cursing, I decided to just grit my teeth for the moment and wait. Things have got to be serious enough if the captains have to be gathered like this.

I cleared my throat quietly as I marched inside, the heavy doors closing behind me on their own. "Urahara-san told me that Soul Society is in grave danger, and that you need me," I said expectantly, hoping I'd get a proper explanation this time.

Soifon immediately snorted. "We do not need you, Substitute Shinigami. And it would do you no good to believe the words of that—"

"Enough!" Yamamoto-soutaichou boomed from across the room, striking his staff against the ground menacingly. He fixed his heavy gaze on me, his hand gripping the head of his staff tighter. "Kurosaki Ichigo, Seireitei is indeed in a situation where your assistance is invaluable. I hereby assign you to take office in—"

"Hold on for a second!" I protested at once, ignoring Soifon's immediate jabs about misconduct and other whatnot. "You're not explaining things _properly_ to me. What is going on in here? What is this _danger_ you people keep on talking about? _That's_ what I want to know first."

I did not miss the sigh from Ukitake-taichou, nor the amused chuckle from Kyouraku-taichou. I looked around, but it seemed that no one wanted to say anything at all. This was definitely…_strange_. Even Unohana-taichou was subtly avoiding my eyes.

"We have no choice but to do this," the Head Captain said after a loaded silence. "You are not allowed to refuse our decision."

Before I could blink, Soifon snapped her fingers once and people in black immediately surrounded me _again_. I tried to break free as members of the Onmitsukidou pulled my arms apart and forced something ungodly tight on my waist. I tried to protest, but no one in the room made any kind of move.

"_Seriously?_" I yelled through the sudden torture. This was freaking _nuts_! "What the f—"

Before I could even finish, the people harassing me vanished just as fast as they arrived. One moment, I was almost getting strangled to death, then the next, there was no one in the large hall aside from the captains and me.

"What the _hell_ was th—" I roared, only to trail off as I noticed just exactly what they did to me. My mouth fell open.

My black shihakusho was gone.

No, not _gone_, I corrected myself as I looked closer. It was just hidden under the knee-length sleeveless haori that I was now wearing.

A _white_ haori...

Byakuya coughed softly, snapping me back to my senses.

"What _is_ this?" I demanded hoarsely, barely getting the words out, pointing at the pristine haori fixed on me snugly. As I moved, the material swayed elegantly, revealing a dark red underside.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri snickered, making me jump. "Pathetic. The boy does not even recognize a haori. I did not think the Thirteen Court Guardians could sink any lower. First it was traitorous captains. Now—"

"_Enough_!" the Head Captain bellowed for the second time. Mayuri rolled his eyes at him, but said nothing else.

I still wasn't making any sound, but not for lack of trying. My hand was frozen on the thick, white sash tied murderously tight around my waist, its ends tinged with a dark red as if dipped in blood.

The Head Captain struck his staff on the ground again, drawing everyone's attention. He looked at me with extremely narrow eyes, his unbelievably long beard as still as a statue.

"From this day onward, you, Substitute Shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo, will serve the Seireitei—"

I swayed on the spot weakly.

"—as captain of the Third Squad."

* * *

**As a heads-up, I would like to inform you that the word count for the first chapter is almost the same as this one, but all the rest are two to three times longer. Just thought I'd mention it. :))**

**And yeah, I eat up reviews. They make me very happy. I'd appreciate if you send one my way every now and then. I don't want to bug you with pleas for reviews every chapter, so let's do each other a favor. If the fic makes you happy, then the reviews make me happy. Haha! Hope to hear from ya!**


	2. Chapter 1 - A Lieutenant

**Chapter One**

_**A Lieutenant**_

Before I could even process what I have just been told—I could have sworn I heard something about me and _captain_ and _Third Squad_ all in one freaking sentence—Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou were already towing me out of the room. Half-formed protests were stuck in my throat, my voice coming out in no more than choked garbles.

My mind was still reeling from the numbed shock by the time we passed through the suspended bridge that was the only passage that led to the First Squad. Moments later, we were back on the grounds. I couldn't even tell if they used shunpo or not. I was very confused…_way too confused_.

Everything happened so fast. Soul Society was in danger. The Onmitsukidou seized me bodily and took me into custody. I was marched into the First Squad. Then the Old Man made me…

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?" Ukitake-taichou asked gently, his green eyes fixed on my face. When he didn't get an answer at once, he turned to the Eighth Squad Captain and spoke softly, his tone laced with worry. "Should we take him to the Fourth Squad?"

That woke me up from my bewildered daze.

"No, I'm fine!" I blurted, pulling away instinctively from the two captains. The last thing I needed was unnecessary medical attention. I was _fine_, just fine…or at least that's what I was trying to tell myself.

And because I was too wound up and tense and disconcerted, it was a while before I realized that I wasn't exactly what anyone would call fine. I was breathing a little bit too heavily, and my chest was still pounding so badly it honestly hurt. A general sense of unease and a fair amount of nervousness coursed through my body like it had been incorporated into my blood in the short time that had passed.

Cussing internally at how pathetic I've become, I took a deep breath to steady myself. Needless to say, it was less effective than I would have liked it to be. At any rate, I doubted a single deep breath would have been enough to solve things. Who was I kidding?

"What just happened? I thought Soul Society was in danger?" I asked anxiously, turning to look at the two captains who were both eyeing me with sheepish gazes that only served to confuse me more. My hand brushed against my clothes as I moved, reminding me of another major concern. "And what is _this_? Why am I wearing this…haori?"

I craned my head in order to see my back. The kanji for _three_ was solidly branded on the thick, heavy fabric. Without a doubt, I was wearing the haori reserved for only one man—the captain of the Third Squad. This was…_real_, wasn't it?

"_Oi_," I almost yelled, forgetting for a moment that not only was I addressing captains of the Thirteen Court Guardians, but I was also talking to two of the oldest and strongest shinigamis in Seireitei. _That_ ought to count for something, right?

Kyouraku-taichou made a face, scratching his bearded chin. "Yeah, well…er, Yama-jii just made _you_ the captain. So…"

My jaw went slack. "What do you mean I was _made_ captain? You mean, that was real?"

_Shit_. This was really happening, wasn't it?

Ukitake-taichou smiled gently at me, seeing the horrified look on my face. "Don't worry Kurosaki-kun. You'll get used to it quickly. And you may not realize it at first, but there are joys to being a captain that—"

"Hold on a second!" I protested, unable to believe my ears. He was _totally_ missing the point. "I don't understand—_none_ of this makes sense. I'm…I'm not even a _real_ shinigami!"

Why weren't they telling me that someone must have just made a mistake? Surely, I couldn't possibly be promoted from being a Substitute Shinigami straight into being a captain, right? Before today, I have never even received an invitation to join the Thirteen Court Guardians. So this had to be just a _misunderstanding_… Yes, a misunderstanding. It could be nothing else but that.

"I see you're confused, Kurosaki-kun," Rukia's kind captain said in a placating tone. "How about this? You ask us what you want to know, then if we have the answer, we'll give it to you."

Beside him, Kyouraku-taichou perked up. "Good idea, Juu!"

I controlled the urge to shout. The uneasy feeling I've had in my gut ever since Rukia got that phone call only grew stronger. It was bad enough that the man just danced around my questions before being sent here. I haven't forced it, thinking that the matter would be cleared when I got here anyway, but _no_. Even the Old Man didn't explain anything to me. And to top it all off, he even made _me_ the captain of an entire division out of the blue!

Was that even _legal_?

"Is Soul Society in danger?" I managed to ask through gritted teeth, feeling cheated. I was missing _something_. I just _knew_ it.

Ukitake-taichou's brows pushed together as he frowned slightly. "You could say that…."

"Is it Aizen?" I prodded, frustrated at the uncertain tone. How on earth can they _not_ be sure? "Was there an attack or something?"

"No, no, there was nothing of the sort. I assure you that," Ukitake-taichou said quickly, jerking slightly when he heard the name. "It's…an internal thing."

I felt a muscle on my jaw jump. "What _internal_ thing?" I did not miss the half-glance Ukitake threw his best friend before sighing.

"_Ahem_," Kyouraku-taichou cleared his throat, rearranging his straw hat as he rested his gaze on my haori. Ukitake-taichou threw him a grateful look. "Well, how to say this… We needed to fill the three empty spots in our ranks quickly, and you were one of the…er, candidates."

"But _why_?"

I wanted to ask so many questions. _Who_ were the other two? Was this a _permanent_ thing? Why not choose a seated officer from one of the squads instead of an _outsider_? Why did they drag me out of the First Squad before I could protest…?

And what was with the _obi_? That part—more than anything else—bugged me, and the fact that it did only bugged me more. I was clearly going out of my mind…

So many questions, but I figured those questions could wait, at least until after my most pressing one has been answered.

"_Why_ do you _need_ to select three new captains at once? _What's—going—on_?" I asked with deliberate slowness and a deathly calm this time, determined to get an answer. I've lost count of how many times I've asked that particular question, but there was just no helping it when none of them wanted to give me a decent response.

For a short promising moment, it seemed like Kyouraku-taichou was going to answer, but—

"_Taichou_!" a shrill voice interrupted.

A second later, Ise Nanao appeared beside Kyouraku-taichou, looking livid. Her eyes were flashing behind her glasses in a way that promised violence if ignored, and the thick book shaking in her hands was proof enough.

"_Nanao-chan_!" the captain yelped sheepishly, looking at his lieutenant with a frantic expression. "I was just—"

Before he could finish his sentence, the bespectacled shinigami had already started dragging him away. "You've got a lot of paperwork to do. If you've got time to hang around so leisurely, then perhaps—"

"Wait wait _wait_!" Kyouraku-taichou exclaimed, turning back to us with renewed enthusiasm. He was pointing at me excitedly, making me groan as I realized I've just turned into an excuse for him to stall. "Look, Nanao-chan—Third Squad's_ new captain_! He's finally here."

"What are you—_oh_!"

I hastily bobbed a small bow as the black-haired lieutenant turned to look at me with round eyes, like she didn't notice me standing here at all until her captain told her.

There was a short moment of silence, then Ise-san hastily sank into a full bow, the thick book she was holding dropping to her sides.

"Kurosaki-taichou, forgive my rudeness."

My mouth dropped open once more as I watched Ise-san bend her body into the unexpected gesture. "W-what…? _No_! Get up, Ise-san. I'm not…"

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, halting his words. It was Kyouraku-taichou.

"A lieutenant is paying you her respects. Do not just disregard it, Kurosaki-kun," he said quietly, his gray eyes glinting from under that deceptive straw hat. But the expression lasted for only a moment. When I blinked, in its place was the same, goofy smile the playful captain was widely known for.

After a few more awkward moments, Ise-san rose from the bow and pushed her glasses back into its ideal spot on the bridge of her nose. She fixed her slightly wide-eyed gaze on me once more.

"Congratulations for the promotion, Kurosaki-taichou."

I struggled not to bite my tongue as I responded hurriedly. "Ah…thank you very much, Ise-san."

I sorely wanted to add that I did not accept this appointment, nor did I know how it happened in the first place, but Kyouraku-taichou's words kept my tongue in check.

If there was something I learned that shinigamis were very sensitive about, it was honor and pride. Sure, none of them were on Byakuya's level, but it seemed to me that the trait was present in almost everyone else. that has got to be majorly inconvenient, I figured, but I just shrugged the thought off anyway—it must be a shinigami thing.

"There, there, you don't have to fight so hard, Shunsui," Ukitake-taichou said genially, looking at his fellow captain. "You know it's pointless to struggle any further."

Ise-san glanced at the white-haired captain apologetically.

"Ukitake-taichou, I'm afraid I need to bring my taichou back to our barracks," she said, one hand wrapped tightly around one of her captain's sleeves. Then her eyes returned to her captain's squirming figure and flashed dangerously. "We've got a mountain of paperwork in the office, and my knuckles are aching so bad from all the writing I've done I want to punch somebody in the face."

She had quickly regained her brisk manner, but the way she said _my taichou_ lingered in my mind.

When I realized what I was doing—what I was _thinking_—I shook my head, as if to get rid of the thoughts. I told myself that I had no business thinking about _captain_-related things.

"Certainly," the white-haired man smiled good-naturedly. From the amusement I could see on his face, I could tell that he was long used to the lieutenant's iron will when it came to forcing the Eighth Squad Captain to do his work.

Kyouraku-taichou mussed his lieutenant's head with one hand and chuckled. "You didn't have to come all the way here, Nanao-chan. I was on my way back, anyway."

If Kyouraku-taichou meant this as a reassurance, then Ise-san certainly wasn't the least bit assured. If anything, it only made her stand up straighter and glare at her captain.

"Kyouraku-_taichou_, as your lieutenant, one of my jobs is to make sure that you do _your_ job as captain of our squad. Furthermore, it's also my duty to make ensure that your honor—as well as public image, which _you_ don't seem to care much about—remains intact," Ise-san said, sounding almost as stern as the Old Man.

For a moment, I was certain the Eighth Squad Lieutenant can give Unohana-taichou a run for her money when it comes to intimidation. I reminded myself then not to get on the Shinigami Women's Association's bad side at all costs. No one in their right mind would risk this kind of wrath.

When Ise-san continued though, I thought the shinigami's voice sounded a little…softer. "In return, you as a captain should make sure that you perform your duties, if only to preserve the sanity of your lieutenant."

I watched as Ukitake-taichou nodded solemnly, patting the man on his shoulder.

"But Nanao-chan," Kyouraku-taichou pouted, making a grand show of dismay that even his best friend was taking his lieutenant's side. "You seem to be getting along quite well, don't you? Is there even anything I do that really throws you off?"

"As a lieutenant, it is unwise for me to parade my feelings in the open carelessly," she stated calmly. Then, Ise-san looked down for a moment, the light reflecting on her glasses making it impossible to see her eyes. What she said next was spoken so softly that it was impossible for anyone but me—who was right beside her—to hear her. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'll _always_ be with you…"

When Ise-san raised her head and pushed her glasses back once more in order to glare effectively at her captain, her expression was so devoid of the sadness her voice had earlier that it was as if I've just imagined the last few moments.

But I was certain I heard it.

And I was taken aback by the depth of the bond between a lieutenant and her captain. Was this a relationship that can only be born through years and years of fighting battles together? Or was this something that can only be shared by shinigamis who worked hard for their titles? Something that can only be achieved when a captain has gone to great lengths to earn his lieutenant's loyalty and trust? But most of all, was this something that I was entitled to have? Was it right for me to wish for a lieutenant like Ise-san, when I could barely even accept my own captaincy?

"Kurosaki-kun?" Ukitake-taichou's voice interrupted my reverie.

I shook my head, trying to dispel the new thoughts that have replaced my earlier unease. "I'm fine, Ukitake-san."

* * *

In the end, Ise-san succeeded in dragging off her captain towards their barracks, lecturing him nonstop about doing his job properly and finishing all the necessary paperwork in time. When they were finally out of earshot, Ukitake-taichou turned to me with an amused smile and started giving me directions to the Third Squad's barracks.

"Are you sure it's alright?" I asked again, worried about how my presence would be received. Were they even aware that a new captain has already been selected? What would they think of a captain who hasn't even seen twenty years of life compared to their decades of experience?

I looked down at my feet, a gesture I didn't usually do. It didn't escape me that the action—which was meant to be a sign of uncertainty—only made me see my haori clearly. The pristine white against the stark black only made the other shine even brighter.

I sighed, unable to calm my nerves at all. "I don't want to…impose on them or anything," I mumbled.

Ukitake-taichou, wise and gentle, gave me a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. "Trust me, Kurosaki-kun. They would be delighted to have you."

"Yeah," I breathed, not really absorbing what the other captain was saying. All I could see in my mind as a sea of skeptical faces of the squad members as they frowned at a Substitute-Shinigami-suddenly-turned-captain.

"I mean it, Kurosaki-kun," Ukitake-taichou said seriously, drawing my eyes back to him. "You have saved Soul Society valiantly so many times in the past. Any squad would be honored to have you as their captain."

I looked down again—this time, in an effort to hide my suddenly heated face. "Thanks, Ukitake-san."

* * *

The Third Squad's barracks was not too far from where Ukitake-taichou and I parted. At the very least, the directions the kind captain gave me weren't too difficult to follow.

"Just go straight for fifteen blocks, then turn right," I repeated under my breath as I counted fifteen blocks. I didn't expect the walk to be _this_ long—Seireitei's blocks were infinitely larger than a normal block should be. But at last, after a few minutes of simmering in nerves, I rounded the last corner.

I've had quite a difficult time just walking—everywhere, shinigamis kept on stopping and bowing to me. Unlike Ise-san, these shinigamis did not know my name, but that didn't stop them from greeting me. After the twentieth time I stopped in order to listen to a bunch of young-looking shinigamis greet me, I seriously considered flash-stepping the rest of the way to the Third Squad. The only thing that stopped me was Kyouraku-taichou's uncharacteristically serious words from before. Until now though, I still wasn't sure if I did the right thing—I've _never_ felt this conflicted before.

Now that I've thought of it too, it dawned on me that being a captain wasn't as easy as some of them—such as Kyouraku-taichou—made it seem to be. Even the simple task of walking was given a whole new twist, making it infinitely harder than I would have thought.

I sighed again as I mastered the impulse to run—the wall-sized kanji for _three_ that identified the Third Squad's barracks was right in front of me now, looking down at me in plain view. The gate, however, seemed to be on the far side of the block. If I wasn't too concerned about reception, I would have probably just jumped over the wall in order to simplify things. _Ooh, the temptation…_

But I couldn't do that, at least not if I was seriously intending to go through with this unexpected captaincy. But then again, as the Old Man had said, _You are not allowed to refuse our decision_.

For the nth time, I wondered _why_. Just what was happening?

But I knew my curiosity would have to wait a little longer. It wasn't like I was never going to find out. Eventually, the truth will come out.

I tried to breathe normally as I slowed down. It seemed like there was no other choice for me but to do this properly. Thankfully, there wasn't a single soul walking by. I was nervous enough as it was.

After one more minute, during which butterflies assaulted my stomach with a vengeance, I was finally in front of the towering gates. It was a good thing I've managed to somehow loosen the thick sash earlier, if only for a bit—if I didn't know better, I could have sworn Soifon was seriously trying to kill me. Any more pressure on my abdomen and I would have to go visit the Fourth Squad soon.

I shook my head and tried to get rid of the crazy thoughts—things were out-of-hand enough as they were. No need to get any more paranoid.

"This is it," I muttered to myself, trying hard not to lose my nerve. _Here goes nothing_.

I took one last deep breath, then I stepped inside Third Squad territory.

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I still wasn't sure I could go through the process of trusting another captain once more, only to lose him in the end._


	3. Chapter 2 - Butterflies From Hell

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I knew my curiosity would have to wait a little longer. It wasn't like I was never going to find out. Eventually, the truth will come out._

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_**Butterflies From Hell**_

I blinked sleepily as the sound of something heavy breaking through the water's surface broke through the silence around me. Stray strands of pale yellow fell over the left side of my face limply, tickling my cheek faintly, as I yawned. My slightly blurry vision adjusted just in time for me to see a bird fly away, a heavy-looking fish snagged between its talons.

As I watched the predator take flight, I couldn't help but feel awed by the strength with which he overpowered his unsuspecting prey in one fell swoop, then took to the skies with an unfaltering speed. In a world where the strong eats and the weak is eaten, the animal had just shown where he stood in the chain with a beautiful display. It felt so…_natural_. It made me wonder where I stood myself.

Realizing I've spaced out again, I quickly rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and sat up straighter.

I looked around me warily, trying to remember why I was here in a secluded forest near the edges of Seireitei, watching the lake water ripple without really seeing anything. And when I _did_ remember, I almost slumped back down again in exhaustion.

I have been here since morning, and all I did was lean on a tree and avoid thinking about the things that I knew he would have to face one day. And, unbelievable as it may sound, the effort robbed me of strength faster than a whole day of training did. It was funny in a way, but also equally depressing.

How _low_ I've _fallen_…

I sighed heavily, my fingers tracing the tight ridges on the handle of Wabisuke absently. It had been some time since the last jigokuchou had delivered a message to me—it said something about the new captain of the Ninth Squad accepting her appointment amiably, although the message did not reveal the name yet. An earlier butterfly contained almost the same message, except that it concerned the Fifth Squad's new captain.

I've long been awaiting—_fearing_, really—the time a jigokuchou would flutter to me, bearing news of a new captain for our squad. The suspense only intensified when news of the captains' _recruitment process_ being executed was relayed to all divisions concerned. It was half the reason I was near the lake, far far away from the heart of Seireitei, instead of in the barracks. If I could delay the inevitable for even just a moment, then I would.

But even so, I had no illusions about escaping those black butterflies I've been dreading so much for days now—the jigokuchou would follow me to the ends of the world if that's what it takes to deliver its message.

I sighed again as I watched shadows dance over my toes. I've been so nervous, but—as if somebody was having a good time stringing me around—no such message came. _After_ all the thinking I've done, after all the _pressure_—how should I act? What was I supposed to feel? Who's the new captain going to be?

Certainly, I was a little glad that I didn't have to face my inner demons yet. But it also pained me that the suspense just kept on dragging on. After all, if there was one thing I learned in all my years as a shinigami, it was that no one can _stop_ the inevitable.

We were never going to be captainless forever. I already _knew_ that.

That being said though, I still wasn't sure I could go through the process of trusting another captain once more, only to lose him in the end. And that, perhaps, was the greatest reason why I—a proud lieutenant with a deep sense of responsibility—chose to hide myself away in this very important time.

I just couldn't deny to myself that deep inside, I was nothing but a broken man.

* * *

All breath left my body in one silent _whoosh_ as I was greeted by a most unexpected sight. An assembly of what looked like the entire Third Squad was lined neatly on either side of the stone pathway that led to the main building. And all of them were in the same deep bowing posture.

What the…?

It took all of my will not to let my jaw hang open in shock like a moron—and I _was_ shocked. Beyond words. Beyond what I felt was even humanly possible. One step inside was all I managed before I was presented face-to-face with the magnitude of what being a Squad Captain meant. And this could only be the beginning.

I gulped nervously. _This was only the beginning._ Oh God.

I silently cursed everyone who had a hand in my unbelievable appointment. What in the blazes gave them the idea that I could handle such a heavy title? I can barely manage a simple greeting such as this one. Hell, I didn't even know how I was supposed to react.

_Really_. How was I _supposed_ to react, anyway?

My brows pushed together as I quickly imagined what the other Captains would do.

If it was Byakuya, he would probably just waltz through without sparing even a glance towards his subordinates. His aristocratic pride would allow for nothing more. But I was nowhere near royalty—and I doubted I could get away with such haughty behavior without getting socked in the face at the very least.

But if it was Kenpachi… _Right_, scratch _that_ one. Kenpachi would probably swing his sword without restraint nor so much as a warning, then challenge whoever was left standing into a duel.

I gave up on trying to imitate other captains after that. Screw shinigami etiquette. I shouldn't have to kill myself over every little thing just because I was a captain now—in fact, _etiquette_ just flew out the window the moment they hauled me in to be a guinea pig captain.

I pulled a deep breath and let oxygen flood into my brain before I could pass out right there. Then I made up my mind—captain or not, shinigami or not, nothing changed the fact that I'm _Japanese_.

Ignoring the almost unbearable pressure on my poor stomach, I slowly bent my body until my back came parallel with the ground. I held this posture for a long while, then slowly rose back to my full height. Without looking at any of them—so that I would not lose what little courage I've mustered—I sucked in another deep breath for good measure and introduced myself.

"I am Kurosaki Ichigo, Substitute Shinigami of Karakura Town…in the Real World. As of just a few moments ago, I've been promoted…" My fingers brushed briefly on the smooth material of my haori as I tried my best not to fidget—the contact reminded me of what to say next. "I will be serving Seireitei…as captain of the Third Squad."

This bold declaration—in my mind, anyway—was met with a profound silence. I _knew _it—they were so going to kill me for this. I knew it I knew it I knew it…

But when I finally glanced at my silent audience, I was surprised yet again.

Everyone was looking at me with the same dumbfounded expression. I've fully expected contempt, disgust and many other spiteful sentiments, but I saw none. If anything, they looked…_awed_.

I bit my lip despite my private pact with myself not to do anything that would degrade the image of a captain in the eyes of these people. I didn't…_understand_. It just seemed too good to be true. No one was breaking out into a hissy fit. No one was shaking his fist angrily at my face. No one was roaring curses or death threats. It just felt…_unreal_.

But just as I started to wonder if this was the part where he should finally wake up from this drawn out, slightly torturous dream, a female shinigami with the body of an elf and the eyes of a tiger stepped out from the crowd and bowed her head briefly.

I stiffened almost immediately.

"My name is Izumi Sakuya, Third Seat of the Third Squad of the Thirteen Court Guardians," she said in a sweet and melodious voice, albeit in a glacial tone. "On behalf of the whole division, welcome. It's an honor to be working with you, Kurosaki-taichou."

Breaking my pact with myself yet again, I gulped, unable to tear my eyes away from the scary Third Seat. She looked like a doll with her willowy pitch black hair and unbelievably translucent skin, but I couldn't help feeling like a cornered prey under her sharp gaze. The wintry lilt of her speech did nothing to soften her image either. For a brief moment, I even wondered if her zanpakuto was an ice-type as well.

When she raised a perfectly curved eyebrow, I burst into speech—I was most thankful that I managed to keep the trepidation from showing in my voice. "Thank you…Izumi-san."

Another shinigami walked forward then, drawing attention away from me for a moment. I almost slumped down in gratitude—thank God for small mercies.

"Taichou," he grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the sleeves of his somewhat shabby shihakusho. "Fourth Seat. Kano Asakura."

I sorely wanted to dash into the main building then, or even just run outside—at this point, either would have been perfectly acceptable to me. _Anything_ but this awkwardness. I could feel every pair of eyes literally stabbing into my forehead.

"Welcome to Squad Three," the flustered-looking Fourth Seat added, scratching the back of his head this time. The fidgety shinigami looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear, but he was braving whatever inner issues he has and continues to stand there. He was doing his best.

…unlike _me_.

In a rare moment of insight, I realized that as much as I was weirded out by this series of events, it can only be worse for the members of this squad. After all, they were the ones who were suddenly told that they will be led by a new captain—someone they don't know, someone they haven't even _seen_ before. But they still had the guts to stand out there for who knew how long to wait for the arrival of their new captain.

I, on the other hand, was just whining about explanations and whatnot. Those were nothing but excuses when you look at the bigger picture. I had it a thousand times _easier_ than these people did. And given the situation that put is all in this awkward state, _I_ wasn't in any position to act all wimpy and pathetic. I was their freaking _captain_ now, for heaven's sake.

I forced himself to calm down and focus. One breath at a time. In… Then out…

When I opened my eyes, I felt a lot better than before. My mind was somehow clearer, and I had the somewhat enlightening feeling that this will end well if I just spoke my mind.

"Thank you, everyone," I said sincerely, meeting every pair of eyes fixed on me even if only briefly.

I felt the urge to look down at my feet in order to hide the unease I knew was showing in my eyes, but I forced myself not to. I owed these people at least that much.

"I barely have an idea what a captain does, and I'm afraid I have much to learn, but… I'm looking forward to getting to know you better. Please guide me as we work together. I'll be in your care from now on."

I bowed again, and this time, it was heartfelt all the way. Every word I've said rang with a determination I haven't realized I already had. And with that awareness came the conclusion that I did not have to do this _alone_. There may be only one captain, but I now have an entire _squad_ with me.

I rose up to the sound of ringing applause, deeply moved as I realized that my squad had just accepted me.

"This way, Kurosaki-taichou," the beautiful Third Seat said, waving a hand towards the path leading to the squad building. This time, there was a small genuine smile on her tiny lips.

* * *

Matsumoto Rangiku's ample bosom landed on the table with a thud as she leaned forward, determined to convince her friends to join her spur-of the-moment scheme. The guys in front of her weren't exactly paying attention to the voluptuous view suddenly revealed to them—although there still was a dusting of red on their cheeks—but the men around were a different matter altogether.

The more reserved lieutenant of the Fifth Squad looked around in alarm, her eyes scouring the entire restaurant for either a haori or snow-colored hair. If the Tenth Squad's captain saw Rangiku-san in such a lewd-looking posture, none of them were going to get away with it without a serious talking-to. Or perhaps even suspensions—Seireitei _had_ decency laws, after all.

Hinamori sighed as she tried to get Rangiku-san to straighten up without having to say it aloud. And of course, she was likely to fail. As _always_.

"Come on, the news has been all over Seireitei," Rangiku exclaimed excitedly, flicking her bright hair back over her shoulder. "Third Squad's new captain is already at the barracks."

Abarai Renji, who got hold of the information from Rukia before anyone else, just snorted. "It's just Ichigo. _Big deal_."

Rangiku threw him a knowing smirk. "Look who's jealous." She said the last word with apparent relish.

To the red-haired lieutenant's credit, he managed to wave the comment off with a flippant roll of his eyes. However, this did not stop Rangiku from laughing out loud.

Hisagi Shuuhei, aware that it would take a while before Rangiku laughed herself out, turned to Hinamori. "But that's something…_big_. He's just a kid. Now he's suddenly a captain. I'm sure his head is still reeling from the shock, if not worse."

Renji snorted again, but this time, he was reacting to Shuuhei's statement rather than to the topic in general. "You know the brat better than that." He picked up a sushi with his bare hands and popped it into his mouth, glaring outside the window. "He'll probably take it in stride even if you make him Head Captain all of a sudden."

Approximately three seconds later, his face was suddenly being crushed into Rangiku's chest.

"Oh you poor thing," she crowed in delight, her lashes wet with tears from laughter. "That's why I'm telling you guys, we'd better go see him at once."

Hinamori sighed again—her mind drifting to their new captain that they were yet to meet—but Shuuhei was nodding absently.

"Yeah. A little more surprise won't kill the boy anyway."

* * *

At last, members of the Third Squad finally decided introductions were over. It had taken quite a while too, as most of the shinigamis present were older than me—their captain—by five lifetimes. It also complicated things a bit that they've already heard so many stories—not all necessarily _true_—about me, and now I was sitting before them wearing a coveted haori.

"Is it true that you killed a Menos Grande right after you became a shinigami?" someone had asked me. By the time this particular question was asked—the first of many, _honestly_, ridiculous ones—I've already stopped trying to look around to see who voiced it.

"It was only a sword wound—the hollow went back to Hueco Mundo at once," I said as clinically as I could. There was some muttering after this, but the noise did not sound hostile to me.

A timid-sounding female voice asked hesitantly, "Is it true you're dating Kuchiki Rukia?"

I nearly choked. "_W-what_?"

"I'm sorry, Taichou! Please forgive my insolence!" the same voice quickly apologized profusely. If I would have to put a picture on the voice, it would be that of a sniveling girl prostrated on the ground. Perhaps it was a good thing after all that I no longer bothered looking around—they made it so hard, anyway. My neck already felt stiff, and I could also already feel my head starting to pound from all the stress—I hated to sound like Ishida, but it was true.

I cleared my throat and tried not to sound like a TV personality saying '_No comment_' in the face of overwhelming evidence. "Rukia saved my life. I love her like my own family."

If anyone found loopholes in my statement, no one said anything about it. Perhaps it was the tone of finality I've tried to inject into the statement. Or perhaps it was just the fact that my answer to the next two questions were a flat _yes_.

"Have you mastered your bankai, Kurosaki-taichou?"

"Yes." Silence.

"Is it true you've mastered it…in only two days?"

"Yes." More silence.

"…do you, er, like persimmons?" someone asked sheepishly.

If it weren't for Fourth Seat Kano Asakura-san's timely laughter—which seemed every bit genuine, judging by the crimson shade his face blushed later on—I had the feeling the silence would have dragged on forever.

But what was I supposed to say, anyway? I did have a bankai—it was probably one of the primary reasons I was shortlisted for the job, if not the _only_ one—and I did achieve it in just two days of death-defying training. There was just no way to soften the response when the question was a yes-or-no type.

I got to my feet gingerly when the grilling was finally over, avoiding stepping on my brand new haori. I was still debating in my mind whether it was just my imagination that the Third Squad seemed to accept me a little too easier than I would have expected. It wasn't like I had much experience regarding this kind of thing, but I was just certain things wouldn't be going this smoothly in a normal situation.

It made me wonder what the _real_ deal was.

"Kurosaki-taichou," the icy beauty, Izumi-san, offered me a cup of sakura tea. I took it with a wary nod and sipped slowly—she was eyeing me intensely, and it was making me nervous. "You have guests waiting outside."

"Guests?" I repeated blankly, almost spilling the tea. Did _guests_ mean messengers? Or perhaps courtesy visits from fellow captains?

Izumi-san flashed me a brief silver-eyed gaze and waited until I've drained the cup, half-scalding my tongue in the process. "Lieutenants from the Fifth, Sixth, Ninth and Tenth."

My fingers nearly slipped on the sleek cup. _Renji! And the others too!_

Before I could ask where I was supposed to put down the empty ceramic, the Third Seat extended her hand wordlessly.

Knowing instinctively that I'll never win against this woman in a battle of wills, I just handed it to her with an apologetic smile. "Thanks, Izumi-san."

The shinigami bent her waist slightly. "Kurosaki-taichou."

* * *

I felt like I've been brought back down to my feet the moment I saw my friends.

"Rangiku-san! Hinamori-san! Shuuhei! Renji!" I greeted them happily, almost running over to meet them at the threshold of the property. "Come in!"

"_Uh huh_. We'd rather not," Renji snorted, giving me a thorough up-and-down look.

I frowned at the dismissive tone—were they going to leave right away? It wasn't like I was _that_ excited to see them—especially Renji—but weird events could do weird things to one's brain. I was suddenly craving familiar faces and normal company.

Shuuhei put a hand on my shoulder the same time Rangiku wrapped herself around my arm. Before I knew it, the four lieutenants have already dragged me towards a shady place somewhere to the north of the Third Squad's grounds.

"Yo, Ichigo," Renji said quite cheerfully this time, throwing a heavy arm around my shoulders. "A captain now, huh?"

I almost blushed. "_Shut it. _This has got be just a…"

Rangiku made a _tsk_ing sound as she propped herself up on a sturdy-looking branch. "I figured you would have thought that way, but now that you've met your squad…are you seriously still saying that?"

I flinched as her half-stern words made me realize I was being a hypocrite. "I just… _I_…"

"I rarely see Sakuya-san looking that…docile, you know?" Rangiku commented casually, studying her nails. She just ignored me when I showed signs of having a different impression of the Third Seat. "The squad approves of you, Ichigo."

I stared at the bloody-looking ends of my second sash. "But I'm not even a real shinigami."

Before I knew it, Renji had already kicked him off my branch.

"Idiot!" the redhead roared at me. "Are you a spoiled brat or what? Do you know how many shinigamis kill themselves in training in order to achieve their bankai? Do you know how hard seated officers work just to rise in rank? Quit acting like a jerk, Ichigo!"

"_Renji_," Shuuhei said in a warning tone.

I sighed, picking myself up from the ground absently. This has got to be the first time I didn't give a damn that Renji just kicked me—well, it was probably also the first time the redhead did it for a good reason. I would have definitely kicked myself if I could.

"You're right," I muttered after a while. Then I buried my face into my hands. "I just don't think I'm cut out for this. And…why _me_?"

Rangiku had just opened her mouth to respond to the rhetorical question when my head snapped back up suddenly, looking at them with wide eyes.

"Wait… You guys should _know_," I said excitedly, realizing something I couldn't believe I haven't thought of at once. "What's _going on_? Why did the Old Man suddenly say they needed to select three new captains at once?"

Renji stared at me through narrowed eyes. "You seriously don't know?"

Hinamori looked at me with a strange expression. "Seireitei is preparing for the 1000th anniversary of its foundation, Kurosaki-taichou. We only celebrate its foundation every twenty five years."

I just stared at her blankly.

Rangiku chuckled. "So _that's_ why you're overreacting. I was wondering why you're so tense. This isn't even a permanent thing."

"_W-what_?" I turned to her dumbly. Did I just hear what I thought she said…?

Renji's fist flicked out, hitting me a solid one on the shoulder. "You're such an idiot. Who would want you to be their captain? What were you imagining, anyway? War or something?"

I felt my temper rising as I began to realize that I have been, to an extent, played. "This is not funny. I don't get it. What has the anniversary thing got to do with…_this_?" I gestured angrily at the sweeping haori and the accompanying obi.

"There, there," Rangiku said good-naturedly. "I can't believe they didn't even _tell_ you. Oh well. You'll be a captain alright, but only temporarily. As Hinamori said, Seireitei is soon turning one thousand years since Yamamoto-soutaichou created the Thirteen Court Guardians, and we will be celebrating it this year. But this isn't like the any other celebration before it. It's also a sacred ceremony of strengthening the barriers separating Soul Society from the Real World and from Hueco Mundo."

Shuuhei groaned audibly. "The preparations haven't even officially started yet, but the paperwork's already killing me."

I turned to Rangiku expectantly, hoping for elaboration.

"This strengthening ceremony is done only every five hundred years," she said, shrugging. "We're lucky to be a part of it—or extremely _un_lucky, depending on you're point of view. One thing's for surre, though—this year's anniversary is bound to be impossibly hard." She turned to me with a carefree smile. "You're in for quite a ride, Ichigo."

Hinamori smiled at me encouragingly. "You'll do just fine, Kurosaki-taichou. Everyone will be working hard. We just really need a captain to head each squad."

It was a while before I've regained the ability to speak. I have, more or less, grasped the reason why I was forced into the position. And I understood now that it wasn't a fixed deal. But really…a _party_?

"So there's no attack?" I clarified. The lieutenants nodded. "Soul Society's not really _in danger_, correct?"

Rangiku made a face. "That depends on how you look at—"

"You know what I'm talking about," I growled, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Sheesh, calm down alright?" Renji snickered. "No one's in mortal danger here, Ichigo."

"Alright, I get it," I muttered, training my eyes back on the empty field before us. After thinking about it for a moment, I figured this was probably for the best. Sure, I didn't like being pulled out of my daily routine for trifles like a Soul Society party, but it was better than being forced into captaincy during a serious crisis. It was hard enough to protect the people I loved—I did not want, or think that I could bear, the added burden of holding a squad together and making sure no one lost their lives.

"Uhhm," Hinamori fidgeted after a long moment of companionable silence. "I need to go back to the barracks. I still haven't met our…new captain. He's bound to arrive any moment now."

I turned to her so fast I was sure I cricked my neck in the process. "I've almost forgotten about _that_!" I also threw Shuuhei a curious glance.

The man just shrugged at me. "I have no idea who it is. We'll find out, I guess."

Rangiku chuckled again. "Ooh, this'll be _fun_!"

* * *

When I returned to my own barracks, the squad had already set up an early outdoor dinner. Feeling a lot more at ease now that I knew what to expect of my captaincy, I eagerly joined the welcome party they have prepared for me. It shouldn't hurt to get a little more acquainted with my subordinates, no matter how temporary the working relationship might be.

As the Third Seat informed me of what the squad usually does during the preparations for the celebration, I realized that it really was impossible to get through all that work without a captain, even if only to act as a placeholder.

Much as I would like to deny it, I was beginning to understand why I was almost violently chucked into the position, why the Old Man deemed it necessary to employ Soifon and the Onmitsukidou in order to secure the _captain candidates_. It was as he said in the meeting hall—they have no choice but to do this. After all, only a few people qualify for the title of Squad Captain now, and Seireitei simply could not allow a shinigami who hasn't even achieved bankai to hold the highest office in a squad, even for a single day.

"You look happy, Kurosaki-taichou," Izumi-san said plainly as she poured me more tea.

I thought about it as I thanked her. "Maybe…" I allowed. "I decided to do my best in working with the squad. That's what matters."

She nodded briefly, then turned away. But before she left, I clearly heard her say, "I hope you can help fix us as well."

* * *

I once again awoke unnaturally, this time because of the arrival of a jigokuchou. I sat up slowly—I haven't realized I have already fallen asleep. All this suspense clearly wasn't good for my health. I looked up warily—the black wings continued to flutter delicately in front of me, waiting to be acknowledged.

I swallowed nervously, then extended a slim finger, allowing the jigokuchou to perch on it delicately. Then I froze.

It had finally come—the message I've been dreading day and night. I've thought I would feel apprehensive, disappointed, crushed…but those feelings would not materialize now. I swallowed again.

I felt…I didn't even _understand_ how I felt at the moment.

A strange, almost electric, emotion was coursing through my body, setting my veins on fire. My chest, which should have been feeling hollow and empty, was pounding angrily. There was also a crashing sound behind my ears that I knew only I could hear.

I tried hard to calm myself down, but my hand still shook so bad that the black butterfly flew off rather ungracefully. I couldn't even control my breathing.

Our new captain…_my_ new captain…was Kurosaki Ichigo—

"_Oh God_…" I breathed, burying my face into my shaking hands.

—the man I've always watched from afar.

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

_We were never going to get anywhere, I thought ironically. But for the life of me, I could not bring myself to stop following._


	4. Chapter 3 - Something Intangible

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

…_I did not have to do this alone._

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_**Something Intangible**_

I've tried to get rid of my haori before going to the restaurant they told me about earlier before they left for their own squads. Of course I _did_—I wasn't excited to have a repeat of earlier events, thank you very much. However, just as I was peeling it off my shoulders, Izumi Sakuya happened to see me and…well, let's just say that things didn't go _too_ well.

I ended up going through the ridiculous process of walking through the more crowded streets of Seireitei wearing the blindingly white clothing that shone like a beacon in the night—as if I needed more attention-grabbing elements to my character aside from my blaring hair color and unbelievably huge zanpakuto that, _frankly_, looked like a kitchen knife.

At last—a dizzying amount of courteous greetings and bows later—I stood outside the small restaurant that more or less matched Renji's clumsy descriptions. Bamboo fences, brown-tinted shoji screens, tinkling glass wind chimes. I looked up at the wooden signage and raised an eyebrow at the name of the place that seemed more like a pub than a proper restaurant.

_Hunter's Moon_.

"Kurosaki-taichou," a deep voice said right behind me, making me spin around in surprise.

At first, all I saw was a little figure folded into a respectful bow. Then I recognized the black bob of hair and the slim build. And finally, I got a faint sense of reiatsu that felt almost as familiar as my own.

"_Rukia_?" I exclaimed, watching my friend rise from the bow with a proud smile. My eyes were fixed on one thing in particular… "You're wearing a—"

"Yeah," Rukia grinned, nudging her left arm forward slightly. "It's why Nii-sama asked me to go back at once. Ukitake-taichou requested for my immediate return."

I tore my eyes away from the lieutenant's badge on Rukia's arm and turned to look at her instead. "_Whoa_…congratulations."

Smirking lightly, Rukia kicked me on the shins and marched inside the restaurant. "Come on, Ichigo. They're waiting for you. I'll tell you the details inside."

We arrived on a very noisy table overflowing with food and—truth be told—reeking with sake. We couldn't have taken too long to arrive after them—most of the platters of food on the table were still steaming, like they've just gotten off the fire—but most of the table's occupants were already sporting unnatural looking blushes on their cheeks.

"Yo, Ichigo!" Renji greeted loudly—practically shouted my name, in other words—and drew the attention of almost the entire restaurant, servers included. Rukia nimbly skipped over to his side and pinched his ear until it turned as red as his hair.

"Idiot! It's Kurosaki-taichou to you, Abarai-_fukutaichou_," she said, biting back a smile in an effort to look admonishing. The onlookers shrugged and went back to minding their own business after a while.

"That _hurt_," Renji sulked, scooting sideways to make way for his childhood best friend as soon as his ear regained its freedom. "You didn't have to pinch _that_ hard, you know?"

The Thirteenth Squad lieutenant calmly picked up her chopsticks and pulled them apart, ignoring the redhead with an amused roll of her eyes.

I looked around, silently thankful that my friends seemed to behave the same as always. I didn't know if I could take any more of the perfunctory pleasantries that seemed to accompany the title of a captain. I could use a little normalcy at the moment—it had been a _long_ day after all. The last thing I wanted was for my friends to get all stiff and silent and start bobbing their heads every time they saw me.

From across the table, Rangiku stopped harassing Shuuhei and Yumichika into drinking more sake and turned to my direction with a wild swing of her hand—effectively hitting all of us with sake directly in the face. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Everyone! As you all know, this is a party thrown in order to congratulate our friends, Ichigo and Rukia. Let us raise our cups for our newly appointed officers! Kurosaki-taichou, new captain of the Third Squad, and Kuchiki-fukutaichou, new lieutenant of the Thirteenth Squad!" she gushed grandly through rather inelegant hiccups. "Well? What are you waiting for? _Go on_," she coaxed impatiently.

Beside her, Ikkaku raised what suspiciously looked like a slice of sashimi squished inside his fist. Yumichika, on the other hand, was staring solemnly a few inches to the left of my face. It was pretty obvious that the Fifth Seat was convinced he was facing me properly, but no matter how composed he may look like, there was no denying the red spots on his cheeks and the glazed look in his eyes. My own face was turning red as well—from repressed laughter.

Beside me, Rukia laughed quietly, looking genuinely happy at the proceedings.

My abrupt appointment might only be an excuse for these people to party like there's no tomorrow, but I didn't mind in the least. If anything, I was glad. There was nothing better than a raucous drinking session—never mind that I didn't even drink—to wash away the stress from a grueling day.

"_Cheeeersss_!" Rangiku crowed happily, bumping her saucer against the others', splashing more sake on the table. "To Kurosaki-taichouuuu!"

For a long moment, they all drank to their stomach's content. I drank my tea slowly, trying not to get overwhelmed by the scent of sake hovering so thickly in the air like a cloud. Rukia took an experimental sip—I already knew she wasn't a drinker—only for her face to screw up in a grimace.

"Disgusting as always," she said, putting down the saucer.

I smirked. "The taste isn't really gonna change, you know. No matter how many times you try it."

She made a face at me. "Some of them aren't so bad. Nii-sama has an excellent collection in the estate. It's just these," she waved a hand over the entire table vaguely, "that taste so…_revolting_."

The defensive tone and her proud expression when she mentioned Byakuya's cellar made me laugh so hard even Rangiku looked up from her bottle and squinted at me, trying to see what was so funny.

"Idiot," Rukia muttered, almost stabbing her chopsticks into the breaded shrimp on her plate.

My attention went back to my own food when Rukia dumped a whole serving of grilled squid on my plate. I opened my mouth to protest, but Rukia's news distracted me.

"Did you know that Shihouin Yoruichi is the new acting captain of the Ninth Squad?"

My chopsticks fell to my lap without me noticing. "Eeehhh? _Really_? But—" My gaze quickly went over to the Ninth Squad's lieutenant, but Shuuhei looked too drunk to listen, or even care. It looked to me like he was drinking himself to the high heavens on purpose.

"Shuuhei's got it really really baaad," Renji hiccupped as he leaned towards us clumsily, causing him to cough violently for a short while. As soon as he recovered though, he immediately downed another shot.

Was this even his normal behavior? Somehow, I doubted that, but Rukia wasn't saying anything.

"_Hey_. You might want to take a break or something," I said anyway, momentarily distracted from the news of Yoruichi-san's appointment. Renji had only two colors now—red and black. "No need to push it, dude."

"_Shaddaaap_," was all the redhead said before he popped an unidentifiable chunk of food into his mouth and chewed noisily, shifting his already abysmal attention to Shuuhei's incoherent ranting on the other side of the table without further ado.

I turned to Rukia, a bit worried. "Aren't you going to stop him or something?"

Rukia just waved a hand. "Just leave him be. He'll regret it in the morning, then he'll learn to never do this again."

I just raised an eyebrow at the seemingly nonchalant answer, but what did I care—this was _Renji_ we were talking about, and the dude _kicked_ me earlier today. "Whatever. So, you were saying…?"

* * *

I learned from a very drunk Rangiku that Kurotsuchi Mayuri has been forced into participating with the preparations actively—if the rumors were true, it seemed that the Head Captain threatened him with the recall of Urahara Kisuke and his temporary reinstatement as captain of the Twelfth Squad.

I gritted my teeth at the mention of the former captain. I still haven't forgotten how the man practically deceived me. There was no doubt he knew why I was summoned in the first place—it explained the creepy glint in his eyes, the suppressed smile, and his parting words before the Senkaimon had closed.

I didn't know how or _when_, but I'd make sure to pay the man back for all his crazy antics.

After forcing down the mountain of squid that Rukia had given me, I remembered to ask what Renji meant when he said that Shuuhei had it bad. Rukia avoided my gaze subtly under the pretext of reaching for a plate of breaded shrimps, making me frown slightly. Yoruichi-san might be a close friend of _that_ man, but she was a fine shinigami.

"Well, you know," she coughed softly, glancing at the other end of the table where Rangiku was tricking Ikkaku and the lieutenant in question into drinking some more. "Yoruichi-san never was a modest person, despite her nobility."

I was just about to ask her what she was talking about when I remembered—with sickening clarity—_that_ time when the Shihouin princess flashed me with everything she's got. Then I looked back at Shuuhei, whose face was practically buried in Rangiku's chest so deeply that he has got to be choking already—from where Rukia and I sat, we could see quite clearly how the tips of Shuuhei's ears have already turned crimson.

"Yeah," I laughed shakily, finding the memory still too vivid for my liking. "He has it bad alright."

If Rukia found my expression weird at all, she did not comment on it.

"Hinamori-fukutaichou's not here," Rukia said after a while, glancing once around—and _under_—the table as if to make sure the Fifth Squad's lieutenant wasn't just passed out beneath the table or something. "And I was even excited to know who the acting captain of Fifth Squad is."

I nodded in agreement, but only half of my brain actually processed this statement. The rest of me was suddenly riveted on a somewhat nagging feeling I felt in my gut…something I couldn't quite figure out _what_. Rukia's words somehow made me realize this unconscious, inexplicable disquiet.

"Who do you think is it?" she asked, elegantly popping half a sushi into her mouth with gracefully held chopsticks—blissfully unaware of my internal fidgeting. "Based on what I heard, he's a strong-looking man whose bearing was just that of a captain. He's also quite charismatic and dashing—according to the rumors, anyway. Seems to be a quiet, intelligent type to me."

She seemed to have expected me to at least share what I thought, because she turned to look at me expectantly when she didn't get an answer after a while. But my thoughts were still muddled, unable to move on past the unidentifiable anxiety I was suddenly feeling.

Thankfully, Rukia was not able to pursue the topic because Renji was suddenly saying something to her in a voice that was so slurred it would be no surprise if she couldn't actually understand any of it. To my surprise though—or perhaps just credit to the two's long friendship—she nodded in amusement and started engaging the redhead in conversation.

* * *

Eventually, the food and the sake ran out. Only Rangiku, Yumichika and I were conscious by the time the servers came to clean our table. Rukia had already left earlier—she said she needed to report to her brother before she could retire for the day.

Before she departed though, she pushed an almost untouched plate of fried eggs towards me, smiled at me warmly, and whispered "Congratulations, Ichigo."

I have forced myself to smile then.

It wasn't that I didn't like eggs or whatever, never mind that I was already full to bursting. It was just that…I have finally figured out what it was that had been bothering me, and not just from the time when Rukia told me about Yoruichi-san, but ever since I arrived at the Third Squad barracks.

It took me all day to realize that I still haven't even seen the _one_ person I wanted—_needed_—to see ever since I realized I would be doing this captain affair properly.

_I wonder where you are right now._ "Kira…"

* * *

I ended up leaving the restaurant alone. I had no choice but to do that, seeing how my friends were practically dead on the floor—at least until the next morning.

As I walked through the still crowded street, I couldn't stop myself from looking around restlessly. It was almost as if I was hoping to just bump into the blond shinigami. And maybe I _was_…

I couldn't believe I've forgotten about _Kira_. To think that the silent lieutenant was even one of Rangiku's solid drinking buddies. I was clearly not in my proper mind today if I did not even notice that her usual posse was incomplete.

Every time my eyes landed on a pale yellow color, I half-jumped in place, only to realize a moment later that it was not the Third Squad's lieutenant. And it wasn't until I actually grabbed someone' shoulder—whose owner turned out to be a female—that I realized there was nothing else on my mind but Kira ever since I left the restaurant.

I cursed myself silently as I wandered some more, not really paying attention to where I went. I decided I needed to clear my mind first before I even thought of going to sleep. And besides—I tried to convince myself—I needed to at least let my digestive system get some work done before I turned to bed.

I turned on another corner, automatically choosing the brighter and noisier street, and continued my walk. As I trudged through the uneven stones lining the streets, I wondered if I should go look for Kira.

I didn't have the slightest idea about protocol and stuff, but I was at least certain that I rarely saw squad captains without their lieutenants by their side. And it wasn't really clear to me either when exactly work hours end for shinigamis.

So, where did that leave me? Should I look for the lieutenant or not? Should I just wait? Where was he anyway, and why didn't he show up at the barracks earlier?

While lost in this line of thought, I continued to stare at people almost unseeingly. All I could really register was the sea of black before me, and the sound of shihakushos brushing against each other as shinigamis rushed by.

…until a hesitant voice jerked me out of my reverie.

"Kurosaki…taichou?"

I snapped back to my senses quickly, then found myself staring at a lieutenant's badge. But when I looked closer, it was…a _woman_.

Before I could react past the disappointment, the lieutenant—not the _one_ I was hoping for—bowed low. When she straightened up, there was no doubt she had seen the lost look in my expressions—_and_ misunderstood.

"My name is Kotetsu Isane, Kurosaki-taichou," she introduced herself politely.

I wanted to kick myself for being so rude. I've recognized her as Unohana-taichou's lieutenant—and I could see the kanji on her badge as well—but I let her misunderstand my frustration for confusion.

"Kotetsu-san," I bowed back. "Good evening."

The Fourth Squad lieutenant looked like she wanted to ask what was bothering me, but she held herself back. "Congratulations on the appointment, Kurosaki-taichou."

For the first time, I spoke my true thoughts, too distracted to remember Kyouraku-taichou's words of advice. "Thanks, but you don't really have to call me _taichou_."

She opened her mouth to protest, but managed to stop herself just in time. Instead, she just nodded hesitantly. "I'm on an errand for Unohana-taichou, Kurosaki..san. I must be on my way."

I nodded quickly. "Of course. Don't let me hold you for long. Thank you, Kotetsu-san."

The lieutenant bowed once more, then started walking away. I knew I _shouldn't_, but I just couldn't stop myself. I ran after her and grabbed her sleeve.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, dropping her sleeve at once the moment she turned around. "Have you—by any chance—seen Kira-san today?"

Her expressions fell when she realized why I was looking for the blond shinigami. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, no. I have no idea where he is."

I tried my best not to let my thoughts show on my face this time. I was pretty certain I've done a good job hiding my disappointment, but I was also sure Kotetsu Isane had seen through me anyway.

When Isane left, I went back to walking aimlessly, feeling hollow in an unfamiliar way. I still wasn't decided whether to look for the man or not, even though looking instinctively at restaurants and crowds made it the only thing I have been doing for the past hour without me realizing it.

I just walked on and on, looking and staring and sighing and walking some more. The ends of my haori kept on billowing all the way to my waist as a cool breeze wafted nonstop through the district, but this was almost entirely beyond my notice. For once, I wasn't feeling the added weight of the cloth I was wearing over my shihakusho, both symbolically and literally. My mind was just…somewhere else at the moment.

I was wondering why I was having trouble admitting to myself that all I wanted now was to see Kira's face.

* * *

Dark had completely fallen by the time I finally gathered my wits about me.

Ever since it was made known to us that the full force of the Thirteen Court Guardians was the absolute minimum if we were to prepare properly for this once-in-forever event, I have been preparing myself for a new captain. And I thought I _have_ steeled myself enough. So why was it that I was so undone now? Was it because it was…_Ichigo_?

I hated the hesitant way the young shinigami's name came to me, even in my thoughts where no one could possibly hear me. It was just unacceptable—I was losing my composure in an unprecedented rate, and I haven't even seen the boy. At this rate, would I ever muster the courage to face my new captain?

When I finally got myself to start walking, I realized that I didn't really have any particular destination in mind. All I was aware of was a desire to…_not_ see…the new captain.

_Not just yet_, I tried to reason with myself, to quell a part of me that reared its ugly head in anger at the irrational desire.

I knew it was a perfectly reasonable sentiment, and yet I wanted to behead myself just for thinking that—the two strongest instincts that were screaming at me right now were also brutally polar opposites. The overwhelming sense of need to be beside my captain, and the crushing desire to no longer have to go through trusting someone so deeply again.

And these two thoughts went round and round inside my head that all of my senses were wrought in snarls and practically dulled to the point I could barely even think of anything else coherently.

I wasn't even seeing where I was going until a heavy arm fell over my shoulders and a deep, rich voice breathed right into my ear, "There _you _are."

I jerked so badly I would have surely tripped if it weren't for the arm that practically pinned me in place. I tried to calm my pounding heart—in vain, of course. It had been acting this way for some time now—it sure as hell wasn't going away anytime soon. Good thing I was a shinigami, otherwise I'd probably be dead by now.

"_Shuuhei_…" I mumbled, too tired to say—or think of—anything else.

"Well hello there, pretty boy," he said breathily, then giggled uncontrollably, shaking my entire frame with his body.

My fellow lieutenant was highly intoxicated, obviously. I frowned at the tattoos on my friend's face—he was way too wasted considering that today was the middle of the work week. Before I could say anything about it though, Shuuhei lifted his other arm and pointed at an equally wasted Rangiku—who was being held up by an uncharacteristically drunk Yumichika.

My visible eyebrow twitched. Seriously, what unlikely event caused them to drink themselves to this state—to _oblivion_—in this critical period?

Eventually, I sat down on the faux bamboo benches outside their—Rangiku-san's—favorite pub, Hunter's Moon. I shook my head briefly at myself—I haven't even realized I've been walking in this direction. If this wasn't Seireitei, I'd probably be lying bloody on the ground now, ambushed by an opportunistic enemy.

"Are you by yourselves?" I asked them even though I knew my question fell on deaf ears.

I have briefly tried casting about for familiar reiatsu, but the effort was in vain. Everyone in this part of the Court was too inebriated to control their reiatsu, thus creating just one large bunch of noise for anyone who bothered searching through it. There was no one else with them that I could see, at any rate.

Yumichika turned to me with bleary eyes about a minute later. "You shouldn't frown too much, Kira-san. It's not beautiful."

I glanced at the Fifth Seat, momentarily distracted from my muddled thoughts about a certain orange-haired kid.

For someone who was so red in the face for drinking so much more than he could usually handle, Yumichika certainly still commanded a consistent degree of beauty. I have to admit that the feat was—in its own rights—impressive, _until_ Yumichika spoke again.

"You know, your new captain looked very much distracted tonight," he said through a delicate hiccup. Then a giddy smile stretched his thin lips. "But he was still beautiful… Really, Kira-san. Kurosaki-kun is so pretty to look at." He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the wall with a low thud. "_Oops_. I mean, Kurosaki…taichou…"

I've already jumped to my feet before I could control my impulses, ready to wake the Fifth Seat up in order for him to be able to answer me. However, Rangiku stirred before I could actually do anything.

"The boy is obviously still just a kid," she breathed, kneading her temples.

I felt my shoulders slump down as I silently agreed, albeit reluctantly. There was just no going around the topic—Kurosaki Ichigo was still painfully young. Much too young…

She hiccupped. "…he could barely even hold his alcohol down."

"_What_?" I practically hissed upon hearing this. "He was with you? Is Kurosaki-kun drunk? _Where_ is he?"

I knew I was demanding to know in a blatantly rude manner, but I couldn't help myself. This was _my_ captain they're talking about…

"Rangiku-san!" I insisted, but too late. The well-endowed shinigami had already closed her eyes in what looked like a deep sleep that no one—except perhaps Hitsugaya-taichou—could wake her up from. No one was in any state to answer me properly now.

I felt cheated—they were only conscious enough to rile me up with random information about the boy, but couldn't stay awake long enough to at least tell me where Ichigo was.

I have just started feeling my temper rise when Shuuhei, whom I thought was already asleep, sidled closer to me and breathed again right into my ear, murmuring almost conspiratorially.

"New captains, eh?" The sake bottle on his hand made faint sloshing sounds as he moved. "Can't say I'm too happy about it. You know my captain, Lady Shihouin, she's just so…" Shuuhei made a face, his eyes darting weakly to Rangiku's sleeping figure. A fierce blush colored his face almost instantaneously. "You'd hardly _believe_ she's a noble." He paused, sighing what seemed like a year's worth of sighs. "But she's alright. I'll give her that. She's a _real_ captain. No doubt about _that_."

Even though it didn't look like my friend was awake enough to hear me, I couldn't help but ask him. "You mean, because she's already served as a captain before?"

To my surprise, Shuuhei made an amused sound. "No, no…that's not it. She—" He hiccupped. "I can _tell_, Kira. As a lieutenant, I can tell." He turned to me with a piercing look in his eyes. "Right?"

My eyebrows arched at the insistent—and rather senseless—question. I didn't know how to answer him, but I was spared from responding anyway. From inside the half-empty restaurant, a loud crash—very much like the sound of an entire table being upended violently—pierced through the relative silence outside. Then a very familiar shout was heard.

"_Extend_, _Houzukimaru_!"

* * *

Walking just as aimlessly as before, I hoped my friends wouldn't get too carried away in stopping Ikkaku. It was just a vague thought at the back of my mind though. As soon as Shuuhei groaned and half-pushed me away with the words "Go take some fresh air, Kira-san," I allowed my feet to take me away. I didn't even look back.

An almost suffocating uneasiness coursed through my chest every time I so much as took a shallow breath—the anxiety and the excitement and the unrelenting fear never really left my system after all.

_A lieutenant_, I reminded myself. _I am a goddamned lieutenant_.

The bright lights and the noisy streets slowly disappeared as I passed through places unknown with unparalleled inattentiveness.

Ever since I realized—_realized_ with a searing clarity—that I was once more a man with a captain to serve, I felt…hollow. Empty. Useless.

I _should_ be beside my captain, not running away like this. If I was half the responsible man I have once been, if only I haven't been too afraid to face my pain head-on, then perhaps I wouldn't be in this pathetic situation…walking around mindlessly with a meaningless badge stuck on my left arm. We could have been sharing a drink right now, my captain and me. Or I could be showing the young shinigami around.

Did Ichigo even know that his quarters at the barracks have long been prepared for his arrival? Did anyone remember to tell him? How did the squad even receive him? Have they at least paid him proper respects? Introduced themselves at the very least?

I cursed myself from the bottom of my heart.

_Those_ were the things I should have been doing. More than just duty or responsibility, it was my honor, my passion, my pride as a _lieutenant_ to serve my captain in any way that I could.

I was nothing but a failure.

And perhaps… Just maybe…. This might have been the very reason Ichimaru Gin left me behind…

I gasped sharply. But _not_ at the thought of my former captain.

A sharp—_almost ripping_—spike of reiatsu surged somewhere behind me, shaking the very ground where I stood. The sheer enormity of the reiatsu, and the scorching hot feel to it, set my very veins on fire. Shivers ran up and down my spine.

_Enemy…_

Right then and there, I decided that this could be the one way I can make up for my shortcomings. I might have failed Ichigo on a personal level, but I was not going to allow my incompetence to tarnish the name of the Third Squad—especially not now that the boy wore a haori with the already infamous number.

Shutting my mind down, I let instinct take over and quickly flew to the disturbingly strong reiatsu.

* * *

I have been following the flow of people, the general direction of the bustling crowds, somehow thinking that the black-clad men and women might be headed to other shinigami hangouts where I was likely to run into Kira.

Fancy restaurants, rowdy pubs, flowery establishments, dim lights, glittering pathways, heady music… I've seen a lot in my undecided state. I've seen many _many_ faces—more than my fair share of shinigami for an entire year, it seemed—but I never saw the _one_ I was searching for.

When the thinning crowd of people I've been following unconsciously led me to a sparsely-populated area in the Court, I finally figured it wasn't the best idea I've had. But I just shrugged the thought off, my blood singing with a stubborn determination.

_I have more of those dumb ideas where they came from_, I thought recklessly.

I closed my eyes and pictured Kira Izuru in my mind.

Pale blond hair, light blue eyes, sallow complexion, permanent scowl…

My brows pushed together in annoyance. _That_ wasn't exactly right. The man couldn't possibly be described by such convenient, everyday terms. He was…_different_.

He had fine, sharply elegant hair the color of butter, and irises with a delicate sky blue tint. It wasn't always that way, though. In the right light, his hair could sometimes take on the appearance of wispy golden threads, his eyes a stormy color devoid of anything else aside from the gray.

_Yes_… That was Kira Izuru.

His complexion wasn't sallow at all—to even hint at it was downright insulting. He was pale, yes, but delicately so. It was a beautiful kind of pale, the one that belied strength and power. And the way his face was always fixed into a mask of mild annoyance and apathy… It was but that, a mask. A frequently misinterpreted expression. In the fleeting moments that the eye usually misses, Kira smiles with a breathtaking loveliness. The grace, the elegance—his small smiles define it all.

_Kira Izuru_.

There weren't many instances when I have felt the man's reiatsu, but the impression of it was burned into my memory forever. So unique, so singular…

I took a deep breath, then let my own reiatsu out, seeking the distinctive feel of my own lieutenant.

…

There was something—a faint recognition tickling my senses—but before I could even reach for that tenuous connection, I was jerked back into reality with a sharp tug on the hem of my shihakusho's hakama.

I almost jumped when I looked down.

A shinigami was on the ground, breathing heavily through his mouth, his hand fisted tightly on the fabric near my ankles.

When the initial surprise had worn off, I quickly leaned down and helped the sweating shinigami back to his feet.

"Are you alright?" I asked worriedly. I turned around to ask others for water, and perhaps a chair too, only to realize that all the other shinigamis in the area were leaning on walls, tree trunks, draped over benches and scattered boulders, all in similar states of distress.

"…too much," the man I was still holding up said shakily. "You reiatsu…taichou…_too much_."

I blanched. I haven't realized I was releasing that much. All I did was let tendrils of my reiatsu slither around me, hoping I'd find at least a trace of Kira's presence.

Before causing any more damage than I already have, I quickly clamped down on my reiatsu—however that was even done—and forced myself to repress my powers as far as it can go. At the same time, I apologized profusely to the shinigami who had braved the pressure in order to get to me.

When I've finally felt the electric sensations running through my veins die down, I turned to apologize to everyone else who got caught up in my recklessness.

I couldn't help but smile though when I heard a collective sigh of relief.

* * *

I paused on the roof, my eyes wide, my hand limp on the hilt of Wabisuke. Down on the street was a man with a shock of orange hair and the haori of a captain. Of _all_ the people that could cause that hair-raising disturbance…

And here I thought it could be an enemy, never mind that Seireitei couldn't possibly be breached so easily now without alerting everyone.

I watched stealthily, still frozen in place, as the boy—the strong frame, the lean build, the toned body—bowed down in sincere apology, despite the somewhat sheepish expression coloring his features.

I looked around, quickly processing everything I saw. From the looks of it, it seemed that the new captain had just nearly incapacitated everyone around him with that devastating reiatsu of his. It made me wonder what Ichigo was doing.

For the love of all that was holy, I tried to determine just why I took to following the boy quietly when Ichigo started walking. I could have easily disappeared—no permanent damage was done, anyway. Or I could have just showed myself and walked with my captain, wherever it was that he was going.

But, for reasons unknown even to myself, I just followed the boy while hidden in the shadows instead. I wanted to know what Ichigo was doing on the outskirts of Seireitei.

He walked and walked, and then walked some more. He almost never stopped, testing my concentration sorely. But as I remained on my captain's trail for about thirty minutes, a few things became obvious to me.

Ichigo was neither lost nor headed somewhere in particular. Judging by the way he walked in slow strides that seemed bereft of direction, it became clear to me that the captain was just _that_—walking aimlessly

We were never going to get _anywhere_, I thought ironically. But for the life of me, I could not bring myself to stop following.

Something intangible was holding me there, a few steps behind my captain, unable to break free and move away. And what scared me was the fact that I wasn't fighting against the sudden attachment. For all the drama I made, I was now following the unaware captain like a lost puppy.

And I was actually happy about it, I realized.

It was then that I knew that I would follow this boy, _my captain indeed_, wherever he chose to go.

* * *

Blinking furiously against the heaviness in my eyes that I haven't experienced for some time now, I came to the conclusion that I was in fact sleepier than I've initially thought.

Torn between wanting to see Kira and wanting to leave the man be until he felt comfortable enough to see me, I ended up wandering around, unable to make a decision at all. All the half-hearted searching I've done earlier was nothing but a distraction, after all. A compromise between my opposite desires.

In the end, I never saw Kira. It was well beyond midnight now. I would just have to hope that tomorrow, I could at least hear word that the lieutenant was fine.

Feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me mercilessly, I sat down on the dark, comfortable-looking grass and leaned on a tree.

I have no idea where I was, but it was grassy, the wind was cool, and the starry view was nice. I could no longer be in Seireitei for all I knew, but I figured I could handle myself pretty well anyway.

Soon, my eyes were closing on their own, leaving me to my muddled, fading thoughts.

A small, wistful smile settled on my features I he slowly drifted away. _I didn't even see him_. But no matter. I could wait. No, I _will_ wait. And when I can no longer stop myself, I will go look for him. Search for him for _real_. I won't give up, even if it's the last thing I do as captain of the Third Squad.

_I'll find you, I promise_. I sighed into unconsciousness. "Izuru…"

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

…_for the life of me, I couldn't understand why the thought of that—of Kira not wanting any more of my involvement—stung at me._


	5. Chapter 4 - Burning

**With unadulterated love, I dedicate this chapter to AiryAquarius, honeyMellon, AnomalyLady, Cranberry, Loly, and the guests who reviewed. (Wish I knew your names!)**

**And to you dear reader, thank you very much for reading! Let's sail this ship together.**

* * *

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I was wondering why I was having trouble admitting to myself that all I wanted now was to see Kira's face._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

_**Burning**_

I woke up with a loud groan and a throbbing pain on my lower back. Merciless rays of a scorching sun flooded over me with an uncomfortable heat, drawing my still fuzzy attention to my parched throat and rumbling stomach. The light against my heavy lids was too bright, and the wind on my skin too hot. And I felt like I've been left out to dry under the sun for a week. I groaned again, then decided there was nothing else to it—time to wake up.

After a few half-hearted attempts, I finally opened my eyes.

It took me about ten seconds to realize that I wasn't in my bedroom at all. But then I thought, _so why was the feeling so familiar_…?

Yawning, I picked up the thick, flowing material half-wrapped around me. The smooth feeling under my fingers as I held it astonished me. The thing looked exactly like a comforter, except that it was nowhere as fluffy and was almost twice as heavy. And the reason I didn't notice it at once was because it was a deep velvety black—blending effortlessly with my shihakusho—and the few linings peeking out from the seams at the edges were the color of dark rubies, very much like the underside of my haori.

Instinctively, I nuzzled my face against it and almost sighed aloud at the softness. Such exquisite material… But where had it come from? _Who_ draped it over me while I was sleeping and didn't bother waking me up instead?

I took a deep breath and sat up gingerly, carefully folding the thick fabric as I did. I tried to think past the initial grogginess from waking up and the distracting comfort of the blanket—I just felt like I was _supposed_ to be doing something. But _what_? I frowned.

"Kurosaki-taichou," a deep voice rumbled beside me all of a sudden, surprising me half out of my wits.

"_What the_—?" I yelled, jumping backwards from the intrusion instinctively.

It was one of those roof-hat messengers that pop in and out of thin air like goddamned spies in a bad movie, wearing a red robe over a fitted black outfit. There was also this strange, bedroll-looking thing strapped on behind their shoulders like a backpack. _Weird creep_.

I bit back an indignant growl as I massaged my spine and the back of my thighs—I've landed on my behind quite badly, thanks to this unnamed messenger who kneeled before me now with absolutely no expression on his half-hidden face.

I quietly rebuked myself from sleeping outdoors—not that I did it _on purpose_, but it clearly wasn't a brilliant idea either.

"Kurosaki-taichou," the weirdly dressed man started, speaking in a stiff and brisk tone. "The Third Squad awaits you."

I listened to him attentively after that, ignoring my slight annoyance over his entrance—my ass _really_ hurt. Thankfully, the sulfurous thoughts were pushed aside as the messenger proceeded to tell me that today was the official start of the preparation of the Thirteen Court Guardians for the celebration of the 1000th founding anniversary of Seireitei.

"I see," I nodded thoughtfully, getting to my feet. I turned to look at the guy. "Say, have you seen—_the hell?_"

The messenger was no longer there. The moment he finished what he had to say, he had gone without so much as a warning.

"Why _bother_ sending a walking, talking messenger if they _won't_ even stay long _enough_ to answer questions?" I complained loudly, feeling totally annoyed now. "You could have just sent a freaking _butterfly_!"

At least the jigokuchou was beautiful to look at.

As I flash-stepped my way to the barracks, getting lost along the way by a fair few times considering how far out I've gone in my aimless—and admittedly pointless—wandering last night, I told myself that I was only hurrying because I didn't wish to be harassed by unnecessary civilities so early in the morning. And _not at all_ because I was beginning to feel desperate about seeing my lieutenant. Of course not. I was a sensible guy. I said I could wait for the shinigami to feel comfortable enough, so I would wait. _Really_…

Finally, I came to a stop in front of the gates of the Third Squad.

I wiped the beads of sweat that have formed on my brow and above my lip. I also waited for the low rumbling of my stomach to cease before I did anything else. And above all, I tried to suppress what felt like the beginning of another nervous episode—the squad had already accepted me. I should keep that in mind.

When I finally calmed down, I entered the grounds.

As the bustling shinigamis—going about their normal daily routines, no doubt—paused on their tracks and bowed to me in greeting, I found himself wondering where the apprehension had gone. It was only yesterday that I was incredulous beyond belief that I was suddenly forced into a haori, and by a man no less than the Commander General of the Thirteen Court Guardians. It wasn't even a full twenty four hours since then. _What happened_? What was it that changed my mind overnight?

Greeting members back mechanically, I followed as Third Seat Izumi-san led me to the wing of the main compound that housed the joint offices of the squad captain and the lieutenant.

I swallowed nervously as I realized that _this_ was real now. I was about to enter the captain's office as its new owner, no matter how temporarily.

"Are you feeling alright, Kurosaki-taichou?" Izumi asked in a surprisingly cold tone, sounding nowhere near _concerned_ or _worried_. In fact, she spoke so inflectionlessly it was scary in itself.

"I'm fine, Izumi-san." _Just reeling_.

But of course I did not say that aloud. I was certain I would receive another stern talking-to about how I should conduct myself with dignity and pride appropriate to someone of my position if I did. The little shinigami, it seemed to me, wasn't beyond doing that—and more.

"Just fine," I repeated, mostly to myself.

Izumi's sapphire blue eyes flicked to me with a critical gaze that I could feel boring into my forehead. But the gaze was followed by nothing but silence. Again, the impassivity was just…mind-blowing.

"I see. Very well then—if you would excuse me, taichou. I shall be back later to fill you in with the finer details regarding our work."

I couldn't help but nod immediately. Frankly, the girl's demeanor simply did not allow for anything else. I thought that if she ever rose to being a captain, the Kuchiki heir would have finally found a match. I watched the Third Seat walk away with her back ramrod straight, her hakama billowing around her ankles with graceful sways.

With a sigh, I stepped inside the porch that surrounded the office, separating it to an extent from the main building. I tried to focus on what I should be doing next, ignoring the constant vibrations coming from my abdomen. I couldn't just stand there forever after all, looking all lost and out-of-place.

At the back of my mind though, I wondered where the heck the warm reception had gone. I had no idea how things worked around here, never having been exposed to squad activities or anything remotely related, but I've thought they would at least offer me breakfast. Even just pointing me to the mess hall—surely they _had_ one—would have sufficed.

I also grimaced at myself as I wondered why I was so famished in the first place. I've eaten quite a lot yesterday from the welcoming feast thrown for me by the squad. Then there was that dinner with Renji and the others where Rukia practically force-fed me. In other words, I just consumed an indecent amount of food not twelve hours ago—so how come I was _starving_ now?

Shaking my head, I pushed open the doors and made my way past the waiting room. I wasn't sure what to expect inside the office—which had been vacated and cleaned out long ago, according to Izumi—but if I was to get any work done, that's where I should probably be. Besides, the captain's office was just beyond the lieutenant's office. It somehow lifted my spirits up to know that I would have to go _through_ Kira's place in order to go to mine.

I might as well settle down in my office too, I thought. If I meant the things I've said last night, then it was a good place to start.

Such was my hope—I realized a short minute later—that I could barely stop myself from feeling so disappointed as I took in the deafening silence. I had no idea how long I stood there at the door, staring blankly at the emptiness that was my lieutenant's office.

_Why_ did I have to promise myself that I would _wait_? I shouldn't have made a vow that I knew I couldn't possibly keep for long—or maybe _at all_. Now I knew what Byakuya felt when he was forced by his principles into hunting his own sister down for execution.

I clenched my hands into fists and tried to think things about in a logical manner.

Kira Izuru, after all, was betrayed by his captain. It was no surprise he wouldn't even show himself now. After all, no matter how different I might be from Ichimaru Gin, I was still in the same high ground that the traitor had once been in.

A _captain_…

I was, as much as I wanted to deny it vehemently, in a position to turn my back on the squad—and ultimately, on my lieutenant. And wasn't _that_ what I have been trying to do ever since the Old Man declared my captaincy? To refuse the responsibility? To deny the squad?

My fist slammed against the wall as I realized how foolish I've been acting. So naïve, so careless… If Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou haven't dragged me out when they have, I could have very well added another blow to Kira's morale unknowingly. And _that_, I didn't know if I could stand. The man had been crushed enough, in mind and soul. Could someone so delicate-looking really be as tough inside as he made himself seem to be?

I only moved when I heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing from the deserted corridors behind me.

It would not do to have squad members see their new leader—a man some of them might even be pinning their hopes on to redeem the squad's honor—crumbling from the pressure. I might be a mess inside, but at I could at least keep my façade intact. There was no need to parade my weakness, no need to be unsightly. I was out-of-place enough as I was.

Besides, I could do _better_ than this. I knew _that_ now. And it took a forced appointment for me to finally understand.

Letting my emotions out in a long gust of air, I walked past the pristine table and nudged open the door to my own, equally desolate office.

* * *

I put the black lacquered tray down on the wide, almost empty table and flexed my wrists a few times. Carrying the impossibly heavy tray alone had been a bad choice, but the deed was done. I would just have to deal with the irksome pain on my wrists until they subsided.

I studied the elegant lacquerware for spills, and was satisfied to see it immaculate. After all, my wrists were in considerable discomfort right now because I have specifically wanted to avoid rocking the tray so much. And there was also the added complication that the kitchens were all the way to the other side of the grounds.

I had absolutely no idea what the young shinigami from the Real World usually ate, and I was not at all familiar with what humans favored in this era. In that vein, I have long forgotten how it felt to be human—and it wasn't like we have human food in Seireitei anyway. So with that inadequacy in mind, I just went ahead and got a little of everything the kitchens offered.

Well, _not_ exactly every single dish.

There were those that were just strange and downright revolting—I left those out, obviously. And there were those that I could not bring myself to like, and I wasn't even a picky eater. In the end, I was quite satisfied with the selection I have made. My only hope now was that the new captain would like it.

I was trying hard not to think of the very real possibility that Ichigo might have already eaten by the time he returns to the barracks, and I chose to distract myself by making sure that every dish was properly covered, that every bowl sat on the center of its saucer.

Just as I finished arranging the tray to perfection, a sudden wind blew through the open window of the spacious room.

The three remaining stacks of important papers on the table were properly held down by weights, but a single-paged report—something that must have been recent—got caught in the sudden breeze. It landed on the far side of the table.

The moment I bent down to pick it up, the door slowly opened with a soft creak.

With a hesitation that was almost endearing, the orange-haired captain stepped inside his own office with light, tentative steps.

As I watched the boy enter quietly, I couldn't help but flinch at the intensity I could see in Ichigo's eyes—there was no mistaking the disappointment simmering under the determined-looking expression. It was the look of someone who was let down after having hoped for something with no small degree of fervor, not unlike the look I knew I myself had sometimes.

However, it wasn't long until the young captain realized the room wasn't as empty as it appeared to him at first. Soon, those brown eyes met my own surprised gaze, and I watched as the burning look suddenly died down…replaced by _something_ else.

I was dumbfounded as Ichigo's eyes widened slowly but steadily, taking in my kneeling figure. When it seemed that his eyes could go no wider, his fist flew to cover his mouth.

"Kira…san?"

My immediate reaction was to avert my gaze. I looked down quickly. Then, realizing that I was still on the floor, I got to my feet hastily and immediately sank into a full bow.

"Kurosaki-taichou, I—" I wanted to congratulate him for the appointment, to apologize for not showing up yesterday, to—

"_Kira_."

The captain spoke my name so softly, so calmly, that I couldn't quite figure out how to react. Then I realized Ichigo had both his hands on my shoulders, coaxing me to straighten up.

"I…ahh…" This was beyond anything I've ever imagined to be our first meeting as subordinate and superior.

Ichigo's thoughtful gaze flicked briefly behind me, then returned to my eyes with a sparkle that I was sure wasn't there before. I found myself suddenly…_uncomfortable_ at the thought of witnessing this phenomenon from such a close distance.

"_Taichou_…?" I exhaled, unable to bring myself to move—Ichigo wasn't, by any means, holding me too tight for me to get away, but it wasn't like I could just shake the boy's grip off.

A small smile slowly pulled Ichigo's lips up. "Thanks for the food, Kira-san. Would you care to join me?"

Taken aback by the unexpected question, it was a while before I remembered to speak. I shifted my eyes to the side again. "I shouldn't, taichou…"

Ichigo cleared his throat, making me look back at his face that was just way too close for comfort. It alarmed me to see that the boy's eyes suddenly had an undercurrent of uncompromising resolve in them.

"What I meant to say was, please join me, Kira-fukutaichou."

"Understood," I breathed at once without really deciding to do so. And it seemed that Ichigo did not miss this fact.

For the shortest while, the boy's eyes lit up, but the expression immediately fell. He almost looked…_apologetic_.

"But if you really don't want to… I mean, I don't wish to impose on—"

I cut through him before I could change my mind any further and simply let him misunderstand what I've said. "No, taichou! It…it would be my pleasure."

Ichigo just stared at me for what seemed like hours, throwing me offbalance. And just when I thought I could no longer endure the boy's mystifying intensity, a wide smile lit up Ichigo's youthful features. His grip on my shoulders loosened, and he even patted my shihakusho straight before letting his hands fall back down to his sides.

"Thanks, _Kira_."

* * *

I glanced at the blond lieutenant again as I popped the last sushi into my mouth, feeling foolish. I have successfully gotten us to eat together—and using rather forceful means too—but now I didn't know what to do next. It didn't help that Kira himself remained silent the entire time. Even as he chewed through the crunchier dishes, he made _no_ _sound_ at all it was almost scary. It made me wonder briefly if everyone in the squad was like this—intimidating in their own, unique ways.

Trying harder than I've ever done in my short life, I searched the man's expressions for the thoughts I decided were most likely to be there.

Resentment.

Suspicion.

Resistance.

Disdain.

Aversion.

There was _nothing_.

Yes, none of what I have feared the most appeared even the slightest bit on the lieutenant's mien, but I could hardly be happy about it at any rate. That was because…I can't see any hint of acceptance or pleasure either.

In the end, the only thing I can actually be certain of was that the former acting captain of the Third Squad was definitely hiding his thoughts from me.

I sighed heavily, disguising the defeated action by pretending to be just blowing on a piping hot spoonful of soup.

When we finished eating through the heaping amounts of food Kira brought for me, the unnerving shinigami stood up wordlessly, took the tray and left the room. I watched him just as silently, stunned into speechlessness.

By the time I snapped back to my senses enough to decide whether to follow after Kira, the shinigami in question had already returned to the room with a smaller tray. Upon closer inspection—_and_ getting a whiff of the warm scent of sakura wafting through the spacious office—I realized that Kira had brought tea.

We drank just as quietly as we have eaten. Only this time, the silence was tense and loaded to the point it was almost electric. As I watched Kira's veins stand taut on his wrists, I knew that we were both aware we wanted to talk _badly_, but no one was willing to begin.

Or maybe it wasn't that no one was willing to begin at all…

_I want to talk to you, believe me,_ I thought dejectedly. _It's just that…all the things I want to let you know, I couldn't possibly say. Not without hurting you…_

No one could be more aware than we were that a solid wall separated the two of us hopelessly. I would have been glad if it was an issue about my being a human, a mere Substitute Shinigami, an inexperienced youngster. But I knew as well as Kira did that it wasn't that at all.

_Ichimaru Gin._

That was what hung between us with a palpable yet unbreachable divide. And it pained me that the one thing I wanted to do for the lieutenant—to assure him that I wouldn't betray him like _that_ bastard did—would only remind him of the wounds he was dealt and the scars that wouldn't really heal.

It was tearing me apart in a way I would have never thought possible—or even _existed_—until I felt it myself. The _frustration_ of knowing that the best thing you can do for someone was also the one thing that would break him completely and irreversibly.

Eventually, Kira took the tray with him again and went to the door. Before leaving once more though, he half-glanced at me—not really meeting my eyes—and said quietly, "We'll just be in the main building, taichou."

A tense moment of ringing silence followed those soft-spoken words.

Reminding myself to at least_ breathe_, I nodded. Then the man was gone, leaving me alone in the office with nothing but the soft click of the door swinging shut.

Minutes later, I retrieved my thicker second sash and retied it around my waist. I wasn't sure what purpose the expensive-looking material served—perhaps costume change—but I wore it regardless.

I have used the thing as a makeshift rucksack earlier to wrap the elegant comforter in—I didn't want to risk ruining the beautiful material. In fact, I wanted to know who the owner was, for it would undoubtedly be the same person who draped it over me in my sleep. To my dismay though, there was nothing on the thick, smooth blanket that could help me identify its owner.

Of course I figured I could just ask my lieutenant to help me with the matter, but breakfast had been awkward enough without me telling Kira that I practically slept on the ground on my first night as a captain of the Third Squad.

After folding the comforter neatly—something I wasn't used to doing—I put it inside an empty drawer on the right hand side of the table I knew I would be using soon enough. Then, without wasting any more time, I made my way to the main building with a new determination.

I might have no idea how to run a squad, but I'll be damned if I let that stop me.

* * *

It was only an hour or two before sundown when I finished my own job assignment. I wiped my brow with a sigh, never mind that the gesture did nothing to the sweat that trickled down from my hairline. I could even feel the dampness weighing down my shihakusho ever so slightly.

I looked around, surveying our almost finished work. The entire barracks was filled with row after row, tower after tower, of boxes. The packages were stacked beside each other so tightly there was barely room for the larger shinigamis to walk through.

The Third Squad traditionally provided back-up for all the other squads who required additional workforce during the critical stages of the preparations, but when not engaged in errands, they monitor and keep track of the materials needed for the celebration.

This year was proving to be much more difficult than any other time, all due to the fact that it was the 500th year mark of the wards guarding Soul Society. And such was the equipment needed to perform this fortification that the entire grounds of the Third Squad—who boasted one of the largest spaces in Seireitei—were now covered in boxes.

Much to the squad's dismay, the abysmal number of boxes currently housed in our barracks also resulted in a sweltering heat that was almost too much to bear.

I put down the box I was carrying on its designated corner, and leaned on the stack for a while. I started breathing through my mouth in an effort to cool myself down faster.

"Are you alright, Kira-san?"

The deep voice that spoke right behind me in a low, worried tone surprised me so much I turned around hastily. "_Taichou_!"

In my impulsive spin, my left hand brushed against one of the protruding boxes, sending sharp, stinging sensations all the way up to my shoulder. I hissed involuntarily as the pain woke up every nerve on my entire left side.

I looked down gingerly and realized that there was a long patch of red running along the underside of my wrist, all the way to my elbow. Before I could hide it, Ichigo's hand was already wrapped tightly around my arm, skillfully avoiding the angry red that discolored my pale skin.

"_What happened_…?" the captain half-growled, his teeth clenched tightly in what looked like an effort to stop himself from yelling.

"It's… I just…" I was suddenly at a loss for what to say. Ichigo was leaning down in order to study the grazed part, the tip of his nose almost touching my arm. I tried to ignore the feathery brushes of his breath fanning across the sensitive skin.

"_Kira_," he hissed, his dark eyes suddenly piercing into my light ones.

I gulped. "It's _nothing_. It's just a rope burn, taichou." But I knew I've said the wrong thing almost at once.

Ichigo's eyes flashed angrily.

* * *

_A group of six shinigamis hauled in a gigantic stone pillar into the barracks for storage._

_The reiatsu-infused pillar, which was going to be used as a linchpin of some kind for a few high-level kidou during the fortification ceremony, was too large to be hauled around in a horizontal position. Instead, it was erected on a four-wheeled makeshift container, with thick ropes wrapped around the pillar in order to balance it._

_They have successfully brought the pillar to the grounds of the Third Squad when one of the wheels ran over a jagged rock on the ground. The shinigamis in charge of moving the cart managed to keep it from turning over completely, but the pillar was jerked to the side so badly it started tipping to one side slowly._

_Kira, who was the highest-ranked officer in the barracks at the moment, arrived on the scene by chance._

"_Bakudou no yon, Hainawa!"_

_Forked chains of light quickly wrapped around the pillar and were stretched taut as they were retracted quickly in order to halt the pillar's fall. However, the measly chains were no match for the stone column that hummed with energy._

_Thinking fast, he tried to stop the pillar's movement by having it lean on something solid. "Bakudou no sanjuunana, Tsuriboshi!"_

_For a moment, it seemed to be over but… The moment the pillar's edge touched the blue plate of light, it splintered into countless shards of reiatsu and disintegrated into air right before their eyes._

_Kira cussed, then pulled his sleeves back as he shouted another spell. "Bakudou no rokujuusan, Sajou Sabaku!"_

_True to its name, winding chains of yellow light flew towards the pillar. But before anyone could blink, the Binding Art hissed angrily as it coiled around the pillar. Shortly after, the entire length of the chains exploded._

_It was almost too late when Kira realized that the gigantic ropes wrapped around the pillar were actually made of anti-reiatsu materials. If that was the case then no kidou had any hope of touching this pillar._

"_Get the ropes!" he roared. Several other squad members present immediately grabbed the ropes and started pulling. Kira joined them at once, flexing his arms._

_In the end, they managed to save it, but not without consequences. While pulling with all his might, Kira's arm suddenly stung from a delayed backlash caused by the Sajou Sabaku he fired without any sort of preparation. In that short moment of distraction, his grip on the rope slipped, and it brushed against the exposed skin where his shihakusho' sleeve rolled back down to his elbow._

_Mere moments after they have secured the pillar, Ichigo arrived—he had just finished delivering a reiatsu-consuming object to the Fourth Squad._

_It did not escape Ichigo's notice that something just happened, as was obvious from the haggard expressions of the squad members plopped on the ground just a few more paces outside the building._

"_What happened?" he demanded at once, his face looking ashen._

_Kira looked around subtly, and seeing that he seemed to be the only casualty of the accident, he decided to just let his sleeve fall back over the prickling skin and went over to assure the boy that everything was fine._

* * *

"Is this what you call _perfectly alright_, Kira-fukutaichou?" Ichigo demanded in a barely-controlled voice.

I flinched from the intensity in the young captain's question, and the crisp way he hissed my title…almost like it was a malediction. I couldn't help but wince again—not because Ichigo's grip tightened, but because he looked so angry, like I've done him a personal wrong.

When I made no response, Ichigo flexed his other hand.

"Izumi-san," he almost snapped, his eyes never leaving my face.

Ichigo must have known the Third Seat was nearby, I thought, because not even five seconds have passed when the little female appeared before us.

"Kurosaki-taichou," she said simply, inclining her head almost imperceptibly.

Ichigo closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, sounding like the action was forced. I flinched again when I realized that Ichigo's hand was trembling.

"Izumi-san… Kindly tell everyone that we're going on a one-hour break. Eat, take a rest, whatever… Just return after an hour."

If the Third Seat was even the least bit surprised by this abrupt decision, her expressions did not let it show. "Understood, taichou."

Without waiting any longer, Ichigo took off at once, dragging me towards the exit.

For a few moments, I allowed myself to be pulled hastily into a half-run. I did not want to cause a scene at the barracks, and I especially didn't want to argue with the boy at once when it was obvious he was looking ragged from the harder tasks that he wouldn't entrust to anyone—like the delivery of that reiatsu-consuming orb. But eventually, when we reached a deserted walkway, I finally spoke.

"_Please_, taichou. You don't have to do this," I said quietly. I knew Ichigo would not allow for anyone under his wing, no matter how temporary the arrangement might be, to get hurt. It was why I decided to just keep the minor injury to myself in the first place. "I'm f—"

"Don't say you're _fine_, Kira-san. Just…" Ichigo said suddenly, only to trail off. "…don't."

I opened my mouth to insist that I was indeed fine, that _this_ wasn't anything I couldn't handle, that there was no need for my captain to personally drag me to the Fourth Squad, only to close it after a while without saying anything. I've heard enough stories from Renji to know that the orange-haired boy could be stubborn when he wants to. Thinking that, I offered no resistance when Ichigo continued to pull me along.

But then, staring at the large _three_ printed clearly on the back of Ichigo's sleeveless haori, I realized the biggest reason why I should protest after all.

I dug my feet into the ground in an effort to slow down, but Ichigo's strides were too strong—it was almost as if he was on the verge of launching into flash-step.

"Taichou, you don't have to take me to the Fourth yourself. I could go on my own."

"No. I must see to it myself," my captain said without turning back.

"But the squad may need you."

"They're on break."

I bit my lip as I continued to stumble along, refusing to back down even though the boy's tone held an intensity I couldn't quite understand. "Someone else could—"

Ichigo stopped abruptly and turned to me so fast I nearly tripped. Before I knew it, Ichigo's eyes were already boring into mine with a gaze so intense I suddenly couldn't think straight.

"Do you really want to avoid me that bad?" Ichigo breathed, his voice breaking faintly as he stepped towards me.

When my back touched the wall, I found I could no longer meet my captain's eyes. "That's not what I'm trying to do, taichou…"

Ichigo stopped moving—but then, he was no more than an arm's length away from me. When he next spoke, his voice sounded so constrained it was nowhere near its usual deep, youthful timbre.

"I'm your captain, Kira-san. And yet I'm having difficulty trying to take you to the infirmary to have your injury checked. Do you seriously think I could just hand this task over to anyone else?"

I sighed in defeat. I knew I've lost this battle the moment I saw that burning look in my captain's eyes before we even left the barracks. "Understood, taichou…"

To my surprise, Ichigo just looked away—I've thought I would get dragged away again the moment my resistance died down.

"_Taichou_…?" I couldn't help but ask when the boy did not speak or move—or so much as _breathe_—for a very long moment.

"And enough of _that_…" Ichigo mumbled, still abusing at a spot on the ground somewhere to the side. "Just call me…Ichigo."

I breathed sharply in surprise—not because my captain just asked to dispense with the titles, but because _this_ boy…he just asked me to call him by his _given_ name.

"_But_…"

"Please," was all he said.

My mind still reeling, I whispered, "Alright…" Then I realized what I just said a moment too soon., so I quickly added, "…Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo sighed loudly, then looked up to meet my gaze with a tired expression. "At least use –kun."

Certain I wouldn't be able to deny my captain anything else if I did not hold myself together, I looked away sharply, making sure Ichigo got the message.

"Kira…"

I bit down on my tongue hard so I wouldn't snap back at the injustice of the boy's request. Here he was, asking me to call him _Ichigo_ when he himself was calling me by my last name. So _unfair_.

But before anyone could speak our thoughts aloud in a moment of reckless impulsiveness, Ichigo started walking again, his hand wrapped around my other wrist tightly.

* * *

"Are you sure you're quite alright, Kurosaki-kun?" Unohana-taichou asked again, clearly not believing my words when everything else about me practically screamed the opposite.

"This is nothing, Unohana-san," I said, refusing to look at the concerned captain.

Sighing elegantly, Unohana-taichou regarded me with a knowing gaze. "Kira-fukutaichou is alright, if that's what you're worried about. The burn might sting a bit, but it should be gone by tomorrow."

I exhaled deeply, my eyes closed as I tried to rein my thoughts in. As much as I appreciated the woman's concern, this was an issue strictly between the Third Squad's captain and his lieutenant.

That being said though, I still wasn't able to bite back my next words. "He even tried to hide it from me. Why _hide_ it…?" I buried my face into my hands, trying to understand what Kira was thinking. But I have to admit to myself that I have no idea why the man would do that.

I knew _nothing_ about the lieutenant I wanted to help.

A warm hand squeezed my shoulder, pulling me out of my dejection momentarily.

"Your concern for your lieutenant is touching, Kurosaki-kun," Unohana-taichou said, a gentle smile coloring her expressions as her blue eyes gazed comfortingly into mine. "You make a great captain."

"Unohana-san…" I breathed.

"Unohana-taichou," Kotetsu-san greeted as she stepped into the waiting room, Kira right behind her. "We've finished, taichou."

I stood up at once. After looking intently at Kira's bandaged left arm from the distance, I thanked Unohana-taichou for her help quickly and left the Fourth Squad barracks without any further ado.

Kira said nothing as he caught up with me in my hasty, downright rude departure. We didn't even talk on the way back to the Third Squad. And when we got there, a few squad members invited me to join them in their break. I did not refuse—and somewhere along the way, Kira finally left my side.

When the one-hour break was finally over, everyone went back to work promptly. There was not much left to do, at any rate. All that was left was to arrange the rest of the packages still stacked outside in the grounds neatly into the few spaces left inside the barracks. If we put in some more effort, we could finish inventory today.

Every now and then, I would spot the blond shinigami lifting a box or two and hauling it by himself to a suitable spot. Sometimes, he would hesitantly accept help from squad members when they see him trying to move a box that normally took four men to even lift.

As I watched him from afar, never closely, it seemed to me that Kira was perfectly alright—cheerful, even. He also used his left hand like there was nothing wrong with it, like the bandages that covered his painful-looking burn weren't even there. And that, more than anything else, only made me angrier.

To be honest, I did not understand why I was feeling so strongly all of a sudden—and towards _Kira_, of all people. I just didn't know how I could be so affected, so perturbed. But then again, I no longer understood the mood changes that wash over me ever since I got that phone call from Urahara. And that itself felt like a lifetime ago now, like being made a captain changed everything about me completely. All I knew now was that I wanted to take the Third Squad and work with them as best as I can. Maybe help them move on…even if just a tiny bit.

A fair few times, during the moments I would get lost in my thoughts, Kira would catch me staring. When that happened, the lieutenant would lay off on using his left arm, as if making sure I wouldn't have any more reason to fuss over him.

And for the life of me, I couldn't understand why the thought of that—of the lieutenant not wanting any more of my involvement—stung at me.

The rest of the day spent itself this way. But instead of pushing things, I just gritted my teeth and settled for just watching from a distance, fervently hoping that one day, the lieutenant would find it in himself to finally accept me in his life.

* * *

I glanced briefly outside the window, and realized that night had long fallen. We finished the job just a little past dinner time, which the squad members have forgone willingly in order to complete the inventory today instead of tomorrow.

I looked down at my hands and wondered if the boy knew how excellent a captain he was. From what I've seen though, it was clear Ichigo had no idea that people were willing to follow him wherever he chose to lead them.

Except for _me_…

I shook my head in another attempt to clear my mind of the same thoughts that have plagued me ever since Ichigo walked out of the infirmary without so much as glancing back at me. Not that I expected the boy to, but something about the sudden indifference stung. It just did.

Perhaps it was for the best that the entire squad decided to work overtime—I could retire to my room at once without having to see Ichigo at the dining area. It was almost that time of the night, anyway. I could just go to sleep at once. I knew I was _tired_. For some reason, Ichigo had been watching all day, especially when Ichigo thought I didn't notice him. It even came to the point that I had to purposefully _catch_ Ichigo staring at me just to have the captain break his gaze—I wasn't sure if the boy even realized it, but sometimes he just stared at me for five minutes straight.

That in itself—the young captain staring at me—wasn't bad at all, but I didn't trust myself to be able to stand it without doing anything reckless.

I groaned as I was forced to admit that Ichigo was the one making things harder for me.

The boy was never good at controlling his reiatsu—nor at sensing that of others, for that matter. All of our common friends attested to that. And it was no surprise at any rate, considering how the boy was an anomaly of a shinigami in the first place. If only he could mask his actions, then I wouldn't have to be on my toes all the time, painfully aware that the one person that intrigued me before was staring me down like I was going to disappear the moment he looked away.

In the end, I just dismissed the boy's watchful gaze as morbid curiosity. After all, the whole of Seireitei was watching me in particular—along with the two other lieutenants—for our reaction to having new captains. I knew that well.

But I also knew that I was only trying to deceive myself with the pathetic excuse—which never worked, in the first place. If it did, then I wouldn't have to be so broken over the betrayal of the man I served with all my loyalty.

Ichigo's attention was more than just curiosity, or even concern. I have no idea what it was, but if there was one thing I knew, it was _this_…

The fire in Ichigo's eyes as he looked at me defied every explanation I could think of at the moment.

* * *

**Yo! Hello everyone! I'm glad there are many people following this, but I'd be a dozen times happier if you guys left a review! :)) Let me know what you think, come on. If you don't, I might get crazy ideas—like, maybe you want me to kill off a character. Perhaps…**_**Kira**_**. Haha!**

**Relax, I'm kidding. (Not really.)**

**Come on come on come on, hit that review button. Save a life! *evil laugh***

**Alright, I'm rambling. I get it. But I'll be doing this all the time, haha! Deal with it.**

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I blanched, all the color draining from my face, as I dropped to my knees. I gathered the limp figure into my arms. "Oh my God… Oh my God… Kiraaaa!" My hands were quickly turning wet…with the freely flowing blood of my fallen lieutenant._

* * *

**Elidyr Cloudwell: (sitting in front of her screen, hands on keyboard) Bwaha! Die, Kira….**_**die**_**!**

**Kira: You had better leave your reviews. Seriously.**

**Ichigo: Yeah. Save a life.**


	6. Chapter 5 - A Matter of Time

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I buried my face into my hands, trying to understand what Kira was thinking. But I have to admit to myself that I have no idea why the man would do that. I knew nothing about the lieutenant I wanted to help._

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_**A Matter of Time**_

The rogue captain—the man whose nameless sword easily earned him the highest rank in his entire division—stalked after me with pure bloodlust.

"It's been a _long_ time, Ichigo," he growled through teeth bared in a feral grin. He paid no attention to the pouring rain that battered over the eaves atop the low walls of Seireitei's arcing pathways. Water dripped down his scarred features as he sauntered towards me, his katana drawing sparks from the ground where the tip bit through the stone mercilessly.

I stumbled through the winding corridors of the Court, all thoughts focused on fleeing from the barbaric captain. I tried not to dwell on the fact that my efforts were futile—no matter how hard I ran, Zaraki Kenpachi was always just a few steps behind me, never losing sight of his prey.

"Don't do _this_, Kenpachi," I roared through the ceaseless rain, my desperate steps never faltering. All around me, the sounds of my flight echoed like thunder.

"You've turned into a coward, _Ichigo_," he bellowed. "You know I _hate_ cowards."

As Kenpachi's maniacal laughter filled the deserted district, I threw myself around a corner and launched into another run, almost completely overwhelmed by the suffocating reiatsu pressing down on me. My breaths were growing ragged, erratic…

My foot caught on something heavy as I tried to break into shunpo, causing me to dive face first into the smooth, wet floor. I scrambled back to my feet, ignoring the brutal aches on my sides, my knees, my head…

"_Come out_, Ichigooo," Kenpachi chanted slowly, his voice drawing closer with every heartbeat.

When my vision adjusted enough for me to see the ground, I felt all my bones turn into water. I have tripped over a sword…a _broken_ sword.

"Wabisuke..." I gasped, all the hairs on my body standing on end.

There was no mistaking _that_ sword, not when it was in its shikai. And just as I thought I could make out a crimson tint to the inner edges of the hook-shaped blade, Kenpachi suddenly appeared a few mere meters behind me.

"Found _ya_," he grinned, his tattered haori swinging around with the heavy weight of rainwater and blood. He raised his sword and held it in both hands, its point aimed at my jugular. His savage smile turned downright animalistic. "I'll show you _true_ power."

I never had the time to even close my eyes.

Kenpachi's eyes almost turned into slits as he roared, "_Baaan-kai!_"

A blinding flash of yellow light erupted between me and Kenpachi, enveloping everything in the violent reiatsu. Any moment now, the pain would come—I was sure.

Any _moment_ now…

I opened my eyes, still waiting for the blow that would most likely kill me in a single hit. But when I did, all I saw was an infinite black.

As if every heartbeat had turned into years, every breath into centuries, every second into forever, I watched as the black slowly, _slowly_ tipped over to the side and fell into a heap at my feet. I blanched, all the color draining from my face, as I dropped to my knees.

I gathered the limp figure into my arms. "Oh my God… _Oh my God_… Kiraaaa!"

The fair-haired, beautiful, _fragile_ shinigami opened his eyes weakly, a small smile tugging at his lips, as if smugly satisfied of how things have gone.

"I'm…sorry…" Kira whispered, his gorgeous pastel eyes turning glassy and opaque. There were streaks of red on his face, dripping all the way down his pale neck and into the folds of his torn shihakusho.

My hands—wrapped bruisingly tight around the one person I wanted to protect with my very life—quickly turned alarmingly wet…

…wet with the freely flowing blood of my fallen lieutenant.

A deafening scream tore itself out of my throat. "_Izuruuuu_!"

The lieutenant's quivering body stilled at last, then his head fell back down on my arm. After feeling my heart splinter into pieces right there, I woke up with a start.

* * *

Feeling too nervous, too angry, too _shaken_ to stay in bed any longer, I got up and splashed my face with some cold water. If I could, I would have drowned myself in the numbing, arctic water, if only to erase the last few minutes of my life forever. But since I couldn't, I doubted I would ever lose that cruel, bitter memory—it would forever haunt me, the way Kira died in my arms, my own hands swimming in the man's blood.

I went back to the room and quickly threw on my shihakusho, followed by the clean, unsullied haori. In my dream, it had been tattered and bloody…

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down even just enough to breathe properly. It was just a dream… It wasn't _real_, I told myself.

_Only a dream_, but then why did I want to kill himself over the fact that I couldn't protect my own lieutenant?

I gritted my teeth as I looked back at my bed—I have never been one for leaving things, especially beddings, not properly fixed. However, I could no longer stay in the dimly lit room. I felt like I was going to go crazy before long. I needed to get out. So that was what I did—with quick strides and a one-way desire to shake the dream off my thoughts, I marched to the door and flung it open.

"_Kira_!" I yelped in surprise.

The blond shinigami who spent the night dying in my goddamned dreams stood outside my door, much too close to be simply passing by.

Our eyes met only briefly, then Kira bowed his head slightly.

That was enough though—all it took was that infinitesimal moment where his eyes, his pale blue irises, showed me that he was well and fine and alive. I haven't even realized I was so wound up to the point of dizziness until I saw Kira and felt all my systems calm down, as if the man's mere presence introduced some kind of fast-acting drug straight into my bloodstream.

I sighed in relief, breaking the tense silence between us.

"Good morning, taichou," Kira spoke quietly then, looking hesitant to say the words at all. He had no idea that his voice was like sweet music to my ears at the moment. The uncertainty in his voice, the quiver in his lips, the hush in his tone—all of it was like a breath of fresh air to me. "You were… You're reiatsu felt_..._" he pressed his lips together, casting about for a suitable word. "…_troubled_."

I felt my relief drain a bit as I took in the rather ragged look of the silent lieutenant though. Now that I've looked more closely, I could see there were faint circles under Kira's eyes that I was sure wasn't there before today. And his normally straight posture had a slight slump to it now, marring the quiet elegance fractionally.

Kira met my piercing gaze diffidently and quickly explained himself. "I just… I thought you might need help, or something…"

It was a while before I managed to find my voice. "I'm _not_—That was nothing." I ran a hand through my hair and willed myself not to act too much like a fool. "I'm sorry to worry you, Kira-san. I just…" I sighed, my nonchalant façade quickly deflating on its own. "…had a bad dream. That's all."

Kira said nothing else, but the very expressive movements with which his mouth pressed together made it plain to see that he wanted to probe further.

I felt something tug at me from within as I realized I actually felt _happy_ that my lieutenant wanted to know about my issues that badly. I bit back a giddy smile and said instead, "Have you…?"

I didn't mean to trail off, but the way the shinigami suddenly stiffened after just hearing two words of my tentative question half-forced me to shut my mouth. For a moment, we just looked at each other uncertainly, tasting the atmosphere between us.

Eventually, I decided that Kira didn't look like he was going to speak any time soon.

"Have you…eaten yet?" I almost mumbled, barely managing to make myself say it loud enough for the lieutenant to actually hear me.

To further pique my curiosity, Kira visibly relaxed when he heard the rest of the question. He didn't even bother hiding the reaction from me.

"Not yet, taichou," he breathed, his fingers winding together as he lifted his eyes from my feet.

Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, we started walking without saying anything else after a few more moments of meeting each other's gazes.

As if our positions were reversed, I walked a step behind Kira dutifully as we navigated through the uniform halls of the Third Squad's main building. I didn't really mind the arrangement—rather, I was enjoying the sight of Kira walking before me with an almost feline gait. The way the lieutenant's toes touch the wooden flooring only lightly before taking the next step was surprisingly mesmerizing. The soft billowing of his shihakusho in the nonexistent wind was intriguing. _Everything_… I was captivated by almost every single thing about the shinigami, even the way his very light complexion was offset by the jet black clothes he wore.

When I nearly smashed my head on a low-hanging lantern of some kind, I shook my head vigorously and forced myself to pay attention to the surroundings instead. I was certain the shinigami would not appreciate my indecent staring. Besides, this was my first time to see this part of the Third Squad. And if my guess was any good, I was now going to find out just exactly where the mess hall is located.

As I finally started noticing things around me aside from my lieutenant, I found myself wondering quietly…

The quiet halls were an interesting color of red—like rubies—near the floorboards, while the walls were mostly a cool, harmless beige. And round every corner, there were small stool-like tables that had a single potted plant atop them. The deep green of the blade-like leaves drew the eye like beacons in the dark. The ceiling was nothing elaborate—just a little more concrete-looking than the floorboards—but they were a deeper brown. The windows were all angles and corners. Nothing was rounded like the general look that Fourth Squad's building had.

All in all, I thought the Third Squad was tastefully decorated. And above all, I simply couldn't imagine the snake-like Ichimaru Gin having a taste for something so…_elegant_.

"We redecorated shortly after the…incident," Kira said quietly, almost as if reading my mind. Without looking back at me, he continued, "I got to decide on most of the changes made, but the decision to make the changes at all came from Izumi-san."

I looked around again, delving deeper into the meaning behind the colors and the decorations and the air.

It felt…warm. _No, not warm._ The exquisite halls looked like they were yearning for warmth. Like it was trying to draw people in. But at the same time, it had an underlying melancholy to it. The dark colors, the muted beauty, the sharp green…they all had this quality to them. _How to describe it…?_ It was like they were drawing our attention to them, but once you look closely, you find yourself being turned away subtly by a depth and intensity that couldn't quite be explained in words. There was just something to it that was like a silent charm, a rejected jewel, an incomprehensible allure to something beautiful _and_ broken. Just like…

…Kira himself.

"It's painful, isn't it?" I breathed, feeling the anguish and the agony and the glory of it all being carved into his soul just by looking.

Kira stumbled ever so slightly, then picked his pace up subtly.

"I'm sorry," I gasped as I caught up with Kira, realizing I have just said those things aloud. "I didn't mean to say it like…"

But the lieutenant did not speak or do anything in reaction, and remained just as impassive until we finally reached our destination.

* * *

Kira and I sat down beside each other in the empty, dining hall—according to Kira, mealtimes were generally strictly followed by the squad members, with the outstanding exception of the captain and lieutenant. On any other time, I would have thought it was grossly unfair to receive such liberties, but right now I couldn't be more thankful.

I've let Kira decide on what to get for me earlier—whatever else the lieutenant was, I had no doubt Kira's taste was far greater and more complex than my own. And besides, I truly enjoyed what Kira had brought me that first time—I could almost sense a personal touch to the selection of dishes, like the choices were tailored to satisfy a specific palate.

As we ate in companionable silence, I found myself studying Kira carefully.

I watched the way Kira held his chopsticks with an unexpected gentleness, something I would've hardly expected from someone who had spent decades wielding a sword. I also watched the way Kira's fingers brushed lightly against the edges of bowls as he picked them up, making no sound at all aside from the faint shift in the air being displaced by the careful movement. I couldn't help but get engrossed listening to the almost inaudible sounds that Kira makes when he takes a particularly delicious spoonful of food. Those quiet moans he make… The way his eyes close for the tiniest moment while savoring the flavor…

My eyes slowly traced the graceful line of Kira's neck as he leaned forward, the delicate movements of his throat every time he swallowed, the refined twist of his wrists as he picked his next mouthful of food. And those pale, delectable lips…

For the first time in a long while, I felt shivers run up and down my body, collecting in a single spot inside me. I felt my blood stirring, like a fire was lit somewhere in me, all the heat pooling just below my belly… I could feel a strange intensity coursing through me in mind-blowing waves. It felt like…yearning. An unfamiliar hunger. A desperate craving.

_Desire_, my body told me.

_Kira_…

I wanted to feel that pale skin against my own…

_Kira_…

I wanted to touch that mouth and explore it…

_Kira_…

I wanted to sink my teeth into that soft-looking neck…

_Kira…Izuru._

I wanted _him_.

"Taichou…" Kira whispered almost shyly, breaking through my reverie.

My face was burning, I realized just then, as I blinked back into the deserted mess hall. I resisted the urge to slap myself a few times. Instead, I just stared at the half-full bowl of soup in the center of my loaded tray. But from the corners of my eyes, I could see Kira's hands trembling slightly.

"Is there…something wrong with your food?" the lieutenant asked quietly.

I turned to look at him this time, distracted momentarily from my guilty thoughts. "Huh? Nothing's wrong. Why?"

Kira put down his chopsticks shakily. "Your _reiatsu_…taichou. Please….hold it in.

My eyes widened as I realized what the other shinigami was saying. "Damn… I'm so sorry!" I quickly tried to grasp the imaginary ends of my reiatsu and reeled them in forcibly.

As soon as I felt like I have regained most of what tenuous control I have over my reiatsu, Kira's rigid posture fell apart and he almost slumped down to the floor. I barely caught him in time.

"I'm so sorry, Kira-san," I said guiltily, helping the lieutenant up.

"It's nothing…"

But we both knew it wasn't _nothing_. Beads of sweat have started forming on Kira's forehead, and even now, I could feel his flesh tingling. His pale fingers were still trembling enough for me to see it.

"I didn't mean to… I didn't even _know_," I breathed, feeling wretched and rotten and destructive.

I was a bother to everyone around me… If I have managed to pressure a lieutenant—a captain-class shinigami—that way, then it could only be worse for other squad members. No, I was no longer just a _bother_. I was downright dangerous.

"I knew I wasn't cut out for _this_," I said before I could think things through, burying my face into my hands. _I couldn't even think of my lieutenant properly…_

A hand slammed against the table with a resounding thud, making me jerk back up.

"Don't _say_ that," Kira almost hissed at me, his visible eye flashing at me. He continued to glare for a while before he calmed down enough to continue. "_Please_ don't say such things, Kurosaki…san."

Too stunned to think of anything else, I said the first thing that came to me. "But I—"

Kira's hand on the table clenched into a fist. "No, taichou. You don't have to worry about it. I'll… I'll help you. I'll always be beside you. I'll help you hold back. It's partially the reason why a lieutenant must follow his captain everywhere, actually…"

I got the gist of what the lieutenant was saying more or less, but my mind had really stopped absorbing things after I heard Kira say that he'll always be by my side.

"_Always_?" I echoed.

Kira's eyes softened, then he looked down at my chest. "Always… I promise."

"Kira…"

Kira looked up at me slowly, his eyes burning a bright blue. "We will always be together."

* * *

As was the practice of all lieutenants, I walked closely behind my captain as we made our way to the First Squad. It was Ichigo's first captains' meeting, and whether we admitted it aloud or not, we were both excited.

Well, maybe it was I who looked forward to this more.

I watched in amusement as Ichigo acknowledged every hasty bow and every perfunctory greeting thrown his way as we passed through crowded streets. More than the charming inability to be impolite, what I found really endearing was how Ichigo seemed to be very flustered by the obligatory salutations. And such was my entertainment that I found myself unable to chide the young shinigami for being so sensitive, and for taking so long too—at the rate we were going, Ichigo would most definitely be late for his first meeting.

When we finally reached a deserted walkway—which seemed to be a deliberate move on Ichigo's part—I was surprised when the orange-haired captain turned to me with a frustrated glance and said, "I think we're going to have to talk about this later."

I, with decades of practice under my belt, kept my expressions carefully molded into my characteristic scowl even though my stomach hurt viciously from the repressed laughter. "Understood, taichou."

Ichigo, looking very much troubled from the mind-grueling experience, did not notice anything amiss. We continued on our way, occasionally resorting to shunpo over the roofs when we see groups of shinigami conducting their rounds.

We have just made it to the pendent bridge that led to the First Squad's main hall when I slammed face first into Ichigo's back.

My hand flew to my nose instinctively, protesting the annoying tingles. "Forgive me, tai—_Shuuhei_?"

I found myself looking at the pained expressions of the Ninth Squad lieutenant from where I stood behind Ichigo. Such was my astonishment at the man's expressions that I instinctively blurted his name instead of referring to him appropriately as _Hisagi-fukutaichou_. When I looked up at Ichigo almost guiltily, I was even more surprised to see the open-mouthed shock on his face.

Feeling like I was missing something, I stepped to the side quietly to see what the problem was. Then my jaw fell slack as well, totally floored by the reprehensible—bordering on _scandalous_—sight before us.

I have seen Soifon-taichou's Bee Crest Blossom—the black butterfly inked on a target by Suzumebachi's shikai—a fair few times before, and the image has long been committed to memory. Such was the intimidating power of Soifon-taichou's two-hit kill attack. Absolutely fearsome, and especially so in the hands of the Onmitsukidou's supreme commander.

However, the image of the jet black butterfly took on an entirely new sense of _intimidating_ just now.

Enlarged until it was big enough to cover a slim abdomen, its wings extending only far enough to hug a well-endowed figure, the ends of the beautiful shape barely touching each other behind the graceful shoulders and over the base of the spine…the woman standing before us wore nothing on her upper body but black fabric shaped into the notorious butterfly of the Second Squad's captain.

The woman's lower half was, thankfully, covered in a gracefully cut black pants that hugged her thighs, then flared out subtly from the knees downwards. She wore a sash that greatly resembled Ichigo's new one, tied around her waist loosely. The sash itself was golden in color, its tips blackened like they were dipped in ink.

Lastly, she had a full haori draped offhandedly over her shoulders with an underside just a few shades lighter than her own purple hair.

I almost choked when understanding washed over me belatedly. The purple hair piled on top of the head in a manner reminiscent of high nobility, the golden irises that matched the color of the exquisite obi…

It was the 22nd head of the Shihouin Clan, and the first female to ever hold the position.

"_Yoruichi-san_," my captain groaned beside me, his boyish face a burning red.

"Yo, Ichigo!" the former Second Squad captain grinned, bracing a hand against her tiny waist, causing her heavy haori to slip minutely to the side. Behind her, Shuuhei looked ready to bite his own tongue and just get it all over with. "I see they've made you a captain. Good job, Ichigo."

Needless to say, Ichigo did not find it in himself to respond just yet. I did not knew if I would be impressed or incredulous of the boy's seeming innocence, but it definitely intrigued me…

Everyone waited with bated breath for someone to break the indignant silence no doubt caused by the Shihouin princess' lavish display of rich, olive-toned skin.

"I do not recall anyone handing down an order for you to block the walkway, Kurosaki Ichigo," a stiff, low voice said impassively. Everyone turned around at once.

"Byakuya!" Ichigo exclaimed, causing the Kuchiki heir's eyebrow to twitch the tiniest bit in annoyance.

Shihouin-taichou—as was proclaimed by the Ninth Squad haori she wore on her back—walked over to the Sixth Squad captain with a wide smile.

"Byakuya-bo, it's been a while, eh?"

The perfectly curved eyebrow twitched again, this time more visibly. "Shihouin Yoruichi. I see Soul Society is on the way to destruction, with Seireitei's poor choices and abysmal decisions. Perhaps it would be pointless to renew the barriers at this rate."

A small hand landed on the captain's back again and again as Shihouin-taichou started laughing aloud. "And they say you have no sense of humor, Byakuya-bo!"

Without giving any sign that he even noticed the other noble ruffling his haori and scarf with her vigorous pats on his back, Kuchiki Byakuya walked forward as impassively as ever. Soon, his back was completely turned on them.

I was just starting to think how scary nobles could be in their detachment when Kuchiki-taichou surprised everyone by saying, "I would rather you did not parade that much skin in public, Shihouin Yoruichi."

Chuckling happily as if she did not just hear the aloof noble make a rather personal comment, Shihouin-taichou shook the restricting haori off her back, slung it over her shoulders flippantly—displaying even more of her territory in the process—and fell into step beside the stiff-backed Kuchiki.

A small design caught my eye as Shihouin-taichou swung her hands—there was something inked on her upper left arm. After squinting a bit, I realized it was the number _nine_. I was just about to dismiss it as a tribute to her new squad when I saw an almost exact figure on her other arm—but this one was the number _six_.

Before I could form a conclusion, she turned her head back slightly and winked at me. Then she gathered her haori into one hand and started hitting Kuchiki-taichou playfully with it.

Everyone just watched in equal states of shocked speechlessness during this entire, rather familiar exchange. The mingling sounds of laughing banter and gruff replies slowly faded into the background as the two aristocratic squad captains disappeared into the distance.

No one else seemed to notice the Ninth Squad's captain's new tattoos aside from me.

"Is it just me, or did those two look close?" Renji piped up after a while.

"Renji!" Ichigo choked out, no doubt taken aback by the redhead's sudden appearance. I couldn't help but notice how all Ichigo had been able to say in the past few minutes were names.

To be fair though, no one really noticed Renji before he spoke anyway. His loud colors were far overshadowed by the combined presence of a skin-baring Shihouin and a retorting Kuchiki.

After a while, everyone regained enough sense to thaw out of their rigid postures. Bowing quickly to Ichigo, Shuuhei rushed after his new captain. Renji followed not long after, realizing he would surely suffer the consequences once _his_ captain looked long enough to see that Renji was no longer behind him.

"I feel bad for Shuuhei," Ichigo said through a small smile, shaking his head faintly. I just looked at him curiously. After taking a few deep breaths, Ichigo met my gaze with a wider smile. "Nothing. Let's go, Kira."

* * *

The next day, they were neck-deep in tasks again. I felt my lip curl slightly as I figured that for all the hard work I was doing, Seireitei should might as well _pay_ me. They sure were working us like slaves.

Groaning, I checked the long, dizzying list I have been perusing since morning as a few shinigamis who have just finished their tasks came to me to look up their next assignment.

"Can't say for sure it's only just a rumor," one of the squad members told the others as I pawed through the thick list. "We sure as hell know Kurotsuchi-taichou's got a few screws loose in the head."

I just shook my head absently as the gossiping squad members turned to look at me, afraid I was going to rebuke them for slandering the mad scientist of a captain. Frankly, I did not care what others called Mayuri. I was busy enough with the goddamned list—_just why did they have to produce it in microprint? It was bound to be long, anyway. A few more pages wouldn't have hurt any more_.

"What was the purpose of the abductions again?" a curious shinigami asked.

My brows furrowed as my fingers traced down the barely-readable part of the list that detailed our tasks regarding the massive delivery of hollow-repelling materials to the Fifth and Sixth Squads.

"…not really sure, but some said it was for experiments on reiatsu…"

"…saying that Kurotsuchi-taichou was trying to get his hands on shinigamis highly proficient in ki…"

"…Unohana-taichou was absolutely terrifying when…"

I almost tore the list apart then. "I give up!" I growled. The squad members turned to me at once, looking apprehensive. I blew out an apologetic sigh. "I'm really sorry, but you'll just have to go to Izumi-san after all."

Their expressions fell simultaneously as all of us—including myself—turned our heads to look at the Third Seat, who as holding the complete version of the list, somewhere to our right. The list under her arms was easily four times thicker than what I was holding, and I knew my own arm _hurt_ from holding _my_ list up for just a few minutes.

"T-thank you, Kurosaki-taichou," the members said, swallowing nervously as they made their way towards the small female.

From where I was standing, I could still clearly hear every word the Third Seat says. But of more importance was how she spoke in an extra sweet voice—I couldn't help but be reminded of Rukia's sweet tone just moments before she kicks me viciously. I knew enough about Izumi by now to know that when she started conversing in a tone like that, you had better be ready to cast defensive kidou in a moment's notice.

Groups of threes queued before her quietly, all eyes looking cautious, all breath held back until they have successfully received their next task and have backed away to a safe distance. And Izumi, without having to consult the goddamned list at all, barked out assignments without skipping a beat. Occasionally though, she would hiss an extra sweet "_Next!_" that would sent the line moving faster than ever.

I shuddered in admiration. That shinigami really was a scary piece of work.

Giving up on the list, which was the only manual labor I have managed to wrest from Izumi after a well-delivered speech about being a captain who wanted to work _with_ his own squad, I made my way back to my office and decided to start on _my_ job. In retrospect, I realized that I couldn't afford any more tasks anyway—the Old Man had given us a lot to do yesterday at the meeting.

If truth be told, the Third Squad and I got the lightest load among them all. Kenpachi—whom I couldn't quite look at in the eye just yet after that horrible dream I had—looked like he was ready to kill the Head Captain after he heard just a fraction of what he was being asked, _forced_ really, to do. Toushirou had dark circles under his eyes, effectively making up for the wide gap in their appearances in terms of age—and gave him the look of a gothic cosplayer as well. Mayuri, on the other hand, shook with anger so bad a few strands of his dark blue hair actually grew loose and fell from that gaudy but intriguing headdress of his. The other captains were in various states of unnatural pallor and simmering tempers.

It was this sorry sight that finally convinced me that I could hardly really blame them anymore for forcing me—and two others—into captaincy. And besides, it wasn't as if I only hated the entire affair. If anything, it was…well, _fun_.

Then again, I reasoned to myself, it wasn't often that I'd get a golden opportunity to see Byakuya looking harassed beyond his control—_and_ without me having to do anything with it. It was totally worth it all just to see Yoruichi-san poking at the man's discomfort.

Curiously enough, the Fifth Squad captain did not attend the meeting. And since I haven't seen Hinamori ever since that first day they visited me abruptly at the Third, I have no idea whether the Fifth Squad's new captain had actually shown up yet.

Pulling out from my memories of yesterday's somewhat entertaining meeting, I opened the door that led to our twin offices, my mind now immersed in the ungodly amount of paperwork I was supposed to turn in today. And such was my distraction that it had totally slipped my mind that it was Kira's office I would be walking into first before I could go to my own.

Needless to say, I didn't notice that Kira was waiting for me expectantly until the lieutenant actually cleared his throat aloud and spoke.

"I've already sorted through the papers according to deadline, then according to level of difficulty," he said carefully, watching my face closely for any negative reaction. "If you would like, I think we have just enough time for tea…"

"Sure! That would be really great!" I exclaimed almost at once. "Thanks, Kira-san."

The lieutenant shifted his footing slightly, then proceeded towards my office. A few moment later, we were comfortably seated on the couches provided for visitors to the Third Squad's captain.

I stared at Kira as the shinigami poured us tea. This morning, Kira had prepared my heavy breakfast again. I have noticed how the selection had changed subtly. After analyzing them as discreetly as I could, I was now sure that the tray's contents were indeed tailored according to one specific—and rather fastidious—taste. And it made me smile that my preferences seemed to match Kira's own flawlessly.

"I've already delegated the easier paperwork to Fourth Seat Kano-kun," Kira said as he handed me a steaming cup. "However, as the bulk of the pending papers are for the preparation, a captain's and lieutenant's signatures are needed. I've already fixed mine into every document—you've got quite a lot of signing to do, taichou."

As I took careful sips, I found my mind wandering yet again. "Tell me something, Kira-san. Do you enjoy your job?"

Kira's fingers on the thick ceramic cup tightened infinitesimally.

I explained hastily, noticing the reaction. "I mean, do you enjoy what you do? _This_, I mean," I waved a hand vaguely. "…paperwork and organizational stuff. You're one of the strongest shinigamis in Seireitei after all. And a lieutenant to boot. Don't you think you're more suited to hold a sword than a brush?"

After the rather lengthy monologue—something that was relatively a first to me—Kira just stared at me for a while, turning the cup round and round in his hand. Then he sighed.

"It's not so bad," he said quietly, looking down at the contents of his cup. "Despite everything that happened, I still like it. It's," he sighed heavily. "…it's what I am now."

I nodded. "I see…"

Kira looked up at me suddenly, his blue eyes once again burning brightly against mine. "How about you, Kurosaki…san? Don't you hate that you were forced to become a captain?

Sighing heavily as I was finally forced to admit it out loud, I smiled lightly and said, "No, I don't hate it. Not _really_, at least. If I didn't really want it, I wouldn't be here, you know? And besides, I was kind of curious anyway. To see what a squad looks like, I mean. To _belong_."

As I explained this though, I couldn't help but see how Kira's expressions slowly fell. I frowned at the strange reaction.

For the next few moments, there was nothing but a tense silence. We could hear every low whoosh of the wind, and the muffled sounds of boxes being moved in the distance, and faint footsteps padding against the wooden floor…

"Do you…hate me, Kira-san?" I asked slowly, wanting to know the honest answer now.

The lieutenant's eyes turned to me sharply.

I wasn't fazed by the piercing look. If anything, it only made me continue. "I've been wondering that for some time now. If you hate me…a mere substitute shinigami, now sitting on the office of a man you once gave your full loyalty to."

"_Stop it_," Kira hissed suddenly, all the color leeched from his eyes.

I did not understand what possessed me at the moment, but I continued. I looked at Kira's face intently and continued.

"Can you ever accept me as your captain, Kira-san?"

The sound of breaking glass suddenly filled the room, ending the conversation forcefully.

"Kira!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. Broken shards of ceramic lay on Kira's feet, his pale hand colored with a bright, shocking red.

"Kurosaki-_taichou_," he said slowly, steadily, coldly. "I would appreciate it if we could keep things as professional and as amiable as we can. Until this whole thing is _over_, preferably."

I could only stare in shock as Kira walked to the door, ignoring the drops of blood dripping from his own fingers.

Watching him turn his back on me like that, I suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to assure Kira that I would never betray his trust like Gin did, that I wouldn't throw away his loyalty, that he doesn't need to act so tense and guarded around me…but I _couldn't_ say it.

How could I betray someone's trust when I _never_ even received it in the first place?

And Kira's eyes—those burning pastel irises—said as much. He did _not_ accept me, and never _will_.

The blond shinigami paused, his hand on the door. For one insanely hopeful moment, I thought the man would come back and talk about it. I guessed I should have known better.

Kira was just as _proud_ as any other shinigami. Maybe even more.

"I'll send someone to clean up shortly," the lieutenant said tonelessly. "And please don't bother about my hand. I've had _worse_."

Then the door clicked shut, and he was gone.

* * *

Shocked and ashamed and disgusted of how I have just acted towards Ichigo—the boy's expressions looked so hurt, so _crushed_—I did not stop until I was far _far_ away from the office. I just didn't think I could breathe while I could still feel Ichigo's reiatsu, feel the quivering hum in it, the unstable rhythm no doubt caused by a shock to the boy's emotional being.

"Kira-fukutaichou," a mild voice called from behind me, the delicate voice colored with no inflection whatsoever.

I paused in my hasty steps and looked around to face Izumi. Her face was impassive as always, but I could tell she knew she won't be seeing me for the rest of the day.

"Izumi-san," I whispered, unable to meet her eyes. How many times had the Third Seat seen me in this pathetic state now? I had no doubt that in the smaller shinigami's mind, I was nothing but weak. "Kindly go to the captain's office and assist Kurosaki-taichou with some…broken glass."

"How about your hand?" she asked simply, not even glancing down. I did not have to look to know that I probably left a trail of red behind me.

"I'm fine, Izumi-san. Thank you."

I left—_fled _—before the shinigami could say anything else.

It wasn't long before I collapsed on the grass beside the mostly still waters of the lake. I couldn't help but laugh ironically at the thought—it seemed to me that this was where I ended up whenever I wanted to run away.

That wasn't entirely correct though, I told myself.

It was only this, and that one time before. I was never driven to hiding like this by any other issue I have encountered before. Not when I attacked Rangiku. Not even when Ichimaru betrayed me and the rest of Soul Society.

_No_, this was the only time. And right now, things were different. I felt…_weak_. Like I couldn't face it. Like my strength born from years and years of being a shinigami was nowhere to be found now. Like the smallest devastation would trample over me and rend me asunder.

Eventually, I managed to slow my breathing down enough for me to apply mild healing kidou to the shallow cuts on my fingers. I didn't know how I did not feel them stinging at all. If truth be told, my hands were a scary sight, the red tracing down the pale skin in sinister contrast.

It had taken all of two seconds for the cup to break under my unconsciously tightened grip.

_Ichigo…_

Why was it that the boy always threw me offbalance? Why was I breaking _now_? Why…?

The truth was that I wanted to treat Ichigo like any lieutenant would treat his captain. With reverence. With respect. With absolute loyalty. I wanted to get to know the boy. I wanted to know how he was brave enough to defy all of Soul Society—the full might of the Thirteen Court Guardians—in order to save Kuchiki Rukia. I wanted to know what gave the boy strength to fight Zaraki-taichou and Kuchiki-taichou and survive those battles and even _win_.

I wanted to know what made the boy want to fight with his all, what made him smile, what makes him happy, what holds his priorities, what makes him live the way he does… Carefree and content and childishly happy.

I wanted to know _Ichigo_.

But I couldn't. I couldn't even come close. I was cruelly hindered by this burning fear in my gut…a fear that never truly goes away, never really leaves me in peace.

Every time I think of the boy as a captain—_my_ captain—images of the boy bleeding and dying flock my mind.

It was always those cruel things. Glassy eyes… Broken body… Bloody skin…

It was the price I paid for having the power to protect others around me—a never-ending fear that the people I learn to care for will end up hurt. Lost. Forever out of my reach.

I've seen it many times before.

Shuuhei… Momo… Renji… Even Gin.

Almost everyone I knew, I've already seen in my dreams bloody and broken and dead. And I was left all alone.

_We're always left behind_, Wabisuke whispered quietly.

I buried my head between my knees and tried to stop myself from shaking. It goes to say that the attempt was fruitless.

They were always there, the pictures of my bleeding friends, like they were burned on the back of my eyelids waiting for me to close my eyes so I could see them again, so I will never _ever_ forget all that I stood to lose.

And now Ichigo was on the forefront of them all… And for the life of me, I couldn't understand why the image of Ichigo on the floor shook me, _unhinged_ me, so much more than any other did.

Yes, it was definitely worse. _Infinitely_ so.

The first time I saw it was the first night I knew Ichigo was the new captain of the Third Squad. Things I've never felt before assaulted me then.

A sharp, throbbing pain through my chest… A lightheadedness that leeched my mind of any and all coherent thought… An inexplicable feeling of getting sick to my stomach… A burning wetness on the corners of my eyes, waiting to brim over and stream down my cheeks…

I woke up that night heaving, my body killing him with a heavy, agonizing pressure that pressed everywhere until I felt like I could no longer breathe.

Ichigo, his boyish features and youthful body, broken and lifeless on the ground… And I was just right there too, unable to protect my captain. Even Wabisuke on my hands was useless…

_We've failed_, the Penitent One said disconsolately.

I feared failing…as I have before. I was afraid of what kind of loss my next failure would cost me.

I figured it was better if my greatest fear was that Ichigo would also betray me like my last captain did. At least it would have been a reasonable, rational fear. Totally to be expected. It would make sense, not only to others but also to myself.

But _no_… I simply knew—somewhere deep inside my soul— that the boy would never betray me, would never defile my trust like some did before. And it was because of that unwavering certainty that I only feared to fail even more.

In the end, I knew I wanted to be with Ichigo—to protect him with my very life all the way to my dying breath as a lieutenant would guard his captain—but I cannot afford to get attached any more than I already was. After all, one day, betrayal or not, Ichigo would surely leave me.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

_Then, just as mesmerizingly as before, Kira's fingers slipped under the last thin material that society dictated he wear, and moved with a sweet, agonizing slowness, revealing one pale shoulder after the other…_


	7. Chapter 6 - Dreams and Death

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

_I did not understand what possessed me at the moment, but I continued. I looked at Kira's face intently and continued._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_**Dreams And Death**_

I threw on my shihakusho and haori with quick, distracted movements right after taking a cold bath, then slipped out of my quarters without further ado just as distraughtly. Cold sweat had been trickling down my temples for some time now, but my heart still showed no sign of stopping its erratic, wild pounding inside my chest.

_Kira…_

As I navigated the winding maze-like corridors of the eerily quiet Third Squad, I tried desperately to clear my head. Never mind fixing relationships or sorting through paperwork or worrying or regretting…I just wanted to _stop_ thinking.

I've thought that knocking myself out cold would have done the trick but, just like any other man, I learned the hard way that I have no real control over my own dreams. Even in forced sleep, my mind assaulted me with guilty thoughts, all of them projecting themselves into warped, cruel dreams that all involved Kira one way or another.

In the end, I just didn't feel like I've slept at all.

After what happened yesterday—after seeing that cold look on Kira's face as the lieutenant walked out of the office with a stiff, unforgiving expression—it was no more surprise that I dreamed of him again. This time though, there was just Kira and me. And the lieutenant just stood in front of me, staring at me with a glacial expression not unlike Izumi's except for the fact that it was infinitely more unnerving.

In the dream, I just looked on and watched, unable to influence my dream-self in any way. My body stepped over to the unmoving Kira and slowly ran my fingers through that pale lock of hair that half-hid Kira's face. And as I did…

I suddenly had to stop somewhere along my frenzied walk through the barracks' more obscure places and lean heavily on a wall for a moment, the memory of the dream still strong enough to shake me, still vivid enough to make me crazy… My hand clapped over my mouth as my stomach threatened to heave.

…as I ran my fingers through the fair hair, streaks of fresh crimson slowly colored them, my fingers painting bloody trails on my lieutenant's mask of indifference. Slowly, _slowly_—always agonizingly slow…

I've started screaming somewhere during the second repetition of the scene, but the torture went on mercilessly for some time before I jerked awake, alone and shivering and reduced to nothing but a blabbering wreck.

"Taichou! Ohayou gozaimasu!" a few squad members greeted loudly, having spotted me from the other end of the long hall—or to be precise, spotted my orange hair.

I did his best to imitate any semblance of normalcy I could manage at the moment before the group of shinigami—totally oblivious to my internal turmoil—came close enough to see the wild look I knew was in my eyes. I allowed their exaggerated cheerfulness to jerk me out of my morbid thoughts, if only for a while. Any reprieve was welcome and much appreciated.

After declining an invitation to eat a somewhat late breakfast before we headed out later for the day's fieldwork, I asked in a barely controlled voice where Kira was. And without noticing anything at all, the rank and file shinigamis pointed me to the Third Squad's training halls. They said the lieutenant was in the kendojo, and that he was bound to be finished his morning practice any moment now.

For a moment, I was grimly satisfied that the people surrounding me were nowhere near as perceptive or as sensitive as the friends I have grown fond of—Rukia, Ishida, Inoue…hell, even Renji could have seen just how flustered I was. But not _these_ ones. It was like I was…almost invisible.

I shook my head again, realizing how far my mentality had deteriorated in the course of a single night. Everything was just…_too much_. I felt like I was broken, and breaking, and _will_ break yet again at the slightest provocation. And even these reactions were way over the top. I barely even knew the man. So why was I feeling _this_ way at all?

_Oh, Kira…_

Having decided that I could never again sleep peacefully until I apologized to Kira for all the things I've said, I made my way towards the dojo. The sooner, the better—I could no longer bear reliving those last moments before Kira turned his back on me. I needed to replace those memories with something else, _anything_…

As long as it got rid of the crushing guilt that I felt, it would be alright. Hell—simply _seeing_ the man's face once more would have sufficed. Just to drown out that last image that seemed to be burned on the back of my eyelids and refused to fade on its own… I did not even care if Kira drew Wabisuke on me—I would have deserved it anyway.

The dojo was separated completely from the main building, located at a corner of the entire grounds. It was further concealed from view by a copse of trees that surrounded the single-storey building.

As I approached, I started feeling the lieutenant's reiatsu—the soft hum, the unique sensation of the quiet energy brushing against my own. It was like a soft tinkling which can only be detected faintly amongst a loud chorus of shaking leaves.

Yes, Kira Izuru's reiatsu was almost _musical_. Indeed, everything about him was beautiful on the outside, strong and unyielding on the inside…

I took a deep breath, not certain anymore what purpose the overrated gesture served. If anything, it only made me realize that no matter how hard I tried to breathe, the tightness on my throat was never going to allow me to have enough air. There was only _one_ way now to remedy this, and I knew well what that was.

_Kira._

When I opened the door of the dojo as carefully as I could though, I hadn't been able to stop myself from grimacing at the lay-out. From the outside, the place looked like a single, huge space—but inside, it was obviously a collection of smaller rooms. It wasn't like I have planned to drop to my knees and grovel the moment I threw the doors open, but I must admit that having to search for Kira wasn't exactly what I had in mind for my apology. Somehow, I was certain this was going to get in the way. _Somehow_.

I entered cautiously, letting the faint impression of Kira's reiatsu lead me. I slid open door after door, moving steadily but carefully. And such was my concentration that I barely noticed that the rooms were gradually getting smaller, the light growing dimmer as I moved on forward. I had no room for such thoughts anymore—_Kira_ was the only thought that filled my mind now, and I wouldn't have it any other way until I earned the lieutenant's forgiveness. Until I have expressed my sincere apology. Until I saw him again…

Feeling very _very_ close all of a sudden, I opened one last door and froze.

I have found himself inside a really small space—more like a junction of many rooms instead of a room by itself. Its four sides were nothing but doors, the fragile panels painted delicately with pictures of sakura.

Before I could pick a door, I noticed the tiniest bit of movement from the room to the right, drawing my attention immediately.

It was _Kira_, I realized after staring at the gently swaying figure only fractionally hidden from view by the slightly open sliding door. I've _found_ him.

Suddenly unable to move or make the slightest sound, I just watched as the lieutenant stopped moving around, his back turned on the partially open door. Kira was wearing clothes of almost the same make as their shihakusho, except for the dark red linings on the otherwise purely white outfit.

_He really is beautiful_, I thought as I drank in the sight of the blond shinigami, dressed in a color that only emphasized how fair his skin was, how delicate his features were, how graceful he moved… He was the very image of an angel, a celestial being._ He's precious._

I was so engrossed that I did not realize what the lieutenant was doing until it became obvious. Kira's spotless white hakama dropped to the floor in an elegant heap after a gentle tug on the hakama-himo that held it in place.

My heart skipped a beat.

For a short while, as if listening to something that only he could hear, Kira paused. It should have been the best opportunity for me to _move_, to leave before the man caught me there, but I could not make myself move a single muscle.

No—I didn't _want_ to. For the life of me, I did _not_ want to…

After a while, Kira slowly peeled the kosode off his shoulders with spindly fingers, revealing the bone-colored shitagi underneath. I was no longer breathing. Blood rushed through my veins madly, sending bone-deep shivers running up and down my body. If I did not know better, I could have sworn I was burning where I stood. And I was feeling exactly like that—like flames were licking at my skin, painting my body with indescribable heat, razing every sensible thought in my head. Yes, I was _burning_ where I stood.

Burning with _guilt_ for further sullying my lieutenant's honor.

Burning with _shame_ from my own, impulsive actions.

Burning with _desire_ to march into that dimly lit room and tear the last fabric off Kira's body myself until the lieutenant was wearing nothing but his lovely skin…

Turning lightly in place as the lieutenant shed off the heavy-looking garment, his new position tilted him enough for me to see the right side of his face. Even under the lack of light, I could easily make out the color in Kira's eyes. It was so dark now—perhaps even the darkest I have ever seen it—that the blue stood in poignant contrast against the washed-out colors that surrounded it.

Then, just as mesmerizingly as before, Kira's fingers slipped under the last thin material that society dictated he wear, and moved with a sweet, agonizing slowness, revealing one pale shoulder after the other…

In a shocking moment of revelation as the garment slid down Kira's shoulders, stopping at his elbows, I almost buckled at the sight. I felt a jolt run through my entire body as my eyes drank in the sight of my lieutenant's exposed skin.

I have never seen anything so…_so stunningly beautiful_.

Everything about Kira Izuru was exquisite. The sharp curves of his collarbone. The elegant dip below his throat. The graceful line of his neck where it met his shoulders. The flawless translucence of his skin. The defined muscles on his back. The subtle indentations of his spine. The gentle brush of his hair against his nape. _All_ of it…and everything else that I couldn't name yet at the moment for lack of coherence.

The heat that swirled throughout my body had finally stopped moving. The flames have all concentrated on a single point inside me, my desire pooling in one specific place, what little left of my sanity threatening to go up in blazes.

Kira was beautiful.

Exquisite.

Fragile.

And it was only now that I realized that I wanted nothing more badly than to call Kira my own. To take him, make a mess of him, leave my mark all over him.

_Mine_.

Kira's head tilted faintly to the side, his sapphirine eyes trained on the ground. And in a whisper just as quiet and as serene as the wind whistling outside the dojo, his lips moved softly.

"How much longer are you going to stay there, Kurosaki-taichou…?" His bright eyes flicked towards my heated face.

"_I_… W-when did you…?" I stammered, more than just surprised at having been caught.

The lieutenant looked away deliberately—he seemed mightily indifferent to the fact that he was barely dressed, and in plain view of his captain no less. "Since before you even left the main building…"

My eyes widened at the statement. "Then _why_…?"

Instead of answering, Kira simply disappeared from sight. A minute later—which seemed to drag on like forever to me—the door opened all the way and Kira appeared before him, already dressed in the customary black shihakusho.

As he came to a fluid stop right in front of me, the faint redness on his cheeks became obvious to my searching gaze.

Without looking into my eyes, Kira exhaled deeply and said in a resigned tone, "Let's go, taichou."

* * *

It was wrong, inappropriate, and unbecoming of me as a lieutenant and as a shinigami. I _knew_ that, but I still did it. I couldn't help it. As much as I wanted to know the boy, so did I want Ichigo to know me… And how could the captain know me if I wouldn't even talk to him properly?

The contradiction was killing me. Everything I wanted were brutal opposites that lived side by side inside my heart. I no longer knew what to do now—it seemed to me like any moment would be the last of my self-control. And it didn't help me that Ichigo wasn't…

_That_ was the problem.

When I felt the boy's impossibly hot reiatsu pulsing in the air—moving closer and closer, enveloping me in an almost palpable warmth—every thought I had about not having anything to do with the boy anymore evaporated. When I felt that deep, heavy gaze rest on me, I suddenly wanted to share with him everything I could.

I allowed Ichigo to watch me as I shed off the pretenses I have carefully cultivated for everyone to see over the years, along with the clothes that reminded me of who I was supposed to be and all that was mine to lose at the moment of my fall.

It had been unbelievably blissful, those few moments where I could feel nothing but Ichigo. I knew I have taken it all from the young captain—every coherent thought, every precious breath, every blush on his face, every little movement on his frozen body… All of it was _mine_ for that brief moment. But it was quickly over.

Gone forever, never to be repeated…

Even so, I was genuinely surprised that Ichigo did not leave—I have expected the boy to flee before I lost the nerve to continue, but no. For reasons I would probably never know, Ichigo stayed.

For a few moments of insanity, I deceived myself into believing that the captain had stayed because he wanted me. But even that brief disgraceful delusion would not last long. It was probably my lewd display and the absurdity of the whole thing that caused the boy to stay rooted in place, unable to process the disgusting scene unfolding before him.

I would never really know, it seemed. And perhaps it was better that way—at the very least, I would never have to wallow in the misery of remembering whatever harsh words the young shinigami would say right before he walked away and cut his ties with Seireitei.

Yes—Ichigo's silence as we walked back to the main building was for the best. I should be grateful that the captain did not choose to react in any other way. And I will never bring the matter up, even if that meant I will never learn now why Ichigo had come looking for me in the first place. It was a trade I was willing to make.

Having made peace with my decision, I looked up from the insignia of our division printed on Ichigo's haori and rested my gaze on the back of his head instead. We were on the way to the Eleventh Squad, where we were needed to assist with the construction of a tower of some kind. Or rather than the actual construction itself, it was more like the handling of a few reiatsu-sensitive materials—which was why Ichigo was heading out personally in the process.

As far as I knew, Ichigo had handpicked our group of six personally—with Izumi's help no doubt. I wasn't at all certain when this choice was made—whether before _or_ after this morning—but if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that this was the only reason I was walking now behind Ichigo. If it had been up to me at all, I would have given it one more day before I returned to Ichigo's side—and apologize properly for acting so crassly the other day.

Then, as if echoing my thoughts, I heard a familiar deep voice float to me quietly.

"I'm really sorry, Kira-san," Ichigo said without looking at me.

I was, _again_, taken by surprise—the boy did not look like he just said anything, but there was no mistaking that rich baritone that just spoke in what could only be described as sorrowful and regretful.

"I'm sorry. I was… I _shouldn't_ have said some things. I was out-of-line."

The resigned tone in the voice, like Ichigo did not even expect me to forgive him, tortured me to no end. Was that how…_heartless_ I looked? Unforgiving _and_ cold? Was _that_ how Ichigo looked at me now?

I bit my lip. I suddenly felt desperate to at least change this impression Ichigo had of me. I just couldn't stand it if the boy thought of me that way… But before I could think of what to say, we were already at the Eleventh Squad, and Ichigo spoke no more.

* * *

The moment we set foot inside the Eleventh Squad's somewhat trashed grounds, a figure dropped on Ichigo from above, almost taking him down in the process.

I sank into a crouch at once, my hand flying to the hilt of his zanpakuto…except that it _wasn't_ there.

I cussed under my breath as I remembered that since the Eleventh Squad's territory was way too close to the heart of Seireitei, the carrying of zanpakuto by lieutenants and captains were forbidden.

"Ichigooo!" Madarame Ikkaku—Third Seat of the self-proclaimed strongest battle unit in Seireitei—cackled loudly, his arm still around the orangehead's neck. "What have we got here, ah? _A kiddie captain_?"

I winced at the usual, screeching voice—it has been some time already since we've last met, and my ears have grown accustomed to the relative quiet. But more importantly, the _bald_ shinigami was disrespecting my captain in a rather flagrant way, and _that_ I would not stand for.

The Third Seat had released Ichigo now—probably because he was busy rubbing his ribs were Ichigo had elbowed him—but the next words out of his extremely loud mouth did nothing to cool down my temper.

"You're one lucky bastard, aren't you? Ichigo," he guffawed mindlessly, paying me no heed whatsoever, like I was just standing there for decoration. _Fine_. My eyebrows twitched in annoyance as I sank into a position my body was very familiar with. I was _still_ a rank higher than this tactless Third Seat.

I started chanting.

"_Scattered bones of beasts. Spire. Vermilion Crystal. Steel wheel. If moving, it's wind—_"

Ichigo turned to look at me with wide eyes the same moment the offending shinigami heard me reciting a high-level spell calmly.

Ikkaku, as was expected, started screeching again. "Hey! _Hey_! You've got to be _kidding_ me—that's a 60s _hadou_!"

I merely smirked through the incantation.

"_If still, it's sky. The tone of clanging spears fills the—_"

Before I could finish though—just _two _more words and the name of the spell itself and I would have properly lectured Ikkaku into respecting Ichigo now that he was a captain—Ichigo's hand clamped down on mine, the boy's mouth slightly parted in a look of panicked shock.

Behind Ichigo, Ikkaku's head was bent down low in apology, as was the upper half of his body. Beside him was the Fifth Seat, Ayasegawa Yumichika, his slim hand clamped down on his best friend's neck.

"_Hora_, Ikkaku. Be nice," the vain shinigami said easily. Then, after an almost indiscernible glance at me, Yumichika turned to Ichigo with an apologetic expression and bowed his head as well. "We apologize for the rudeness, Kurosaki-taichou. And in behalf of the Eleventh Squad, congratulations for the appointment."

"Kira, _hey_," Ichigo said, shaking my hand slowly. "Let's not be rash, okay?"

Fairly satisfied by the speed with which amends were made, I relaxed my stance and let the building energy from the _Raikouhou_ I was chanting dissipate into the wind. Next time though, I wouldn't be so lenient. Notorious or not, no one should get away with insulting the Third Squad—and especially not when the one being affronted was _my_ captain.

Beside me, Ichigo groaned at the two bowing shinigamis and pinched the bridge of his nose. It did not escape my notice that even though his grip had already somewhat loosened, his hand was still around my wrist.

Ikkaku gave Yumichika a murderous glare, then proceeded to speak through gritted teeth. "Forgive my rudeness, Kurosaki…_taichou_."

"Not again," Ichigo said under his breath.

As if by cue, Zaraki-taichou—with Kusajishi-fukutaichou perched on his back like always—walked into the scene looking ecstatic. He was also amazingly indifferent when Ikkaku threw Yumichika off his back and dove into him with fists raised. The Eleventh Squad captain obviously did not give a damn even if two of his highest-ranked seated officers started a brawl right there, dragging in about a dozen other shinigamis as _they_ tried to stop the two.

"Ichigo," Kenpachi leered, ambling over with his overly arrogant and entirely graceless gait. Behind him, Yachiru was laughing quite gleefully, as if she was watching a live comedy show. "You vanish awfully fast _every_ damn time, Ichigo. What, you're a coward now?"

I—knowing a few scenarios to which this conversation could lead—looked at Ichigo uncertainly, hoping I'd get some clue as to what to do. I gulped uneasily when I saw that there was a forced smile plastered on the smaller captain's face, his body obviously angled for easy flight.

"_Now_'s hardly the _time_ for _this_, Kenpachi," Ichigo said nervously through the smile. "We're here now to assist in the construction of _that_ tower."

The nervous team of four we have brought with s glanced briefly at the half-finished tower in the distance that Ichigo had referred to. Why anyone in their proper mind would decide to erect something supposedly that important inside—or even _anywhere near_—the grounds of the Eleventh Squad was a mystery to me and will probably remain to be one.

Before they could stare at the tower for long though, their attention immediately darted back to the two captains as Kenpachi stepped closer, finally forcing Ichigo to stumble a step backwards.

This almost involuntary action made Kenpachi bare his teeth in a predatory smile. "Screw the tower, Ichigo. It's not like it's going anywhere. You're acting like a damned sissy. _Koi_!"

Left with no choice, I assumed a ready stance once more. I hurriedly flicked through my knowledge of kidou, trying to decide what to use in case Kenpachi actually started attacking—a combination of bakudou and hadou? Or should I just go with Destructive Arts all the way? I knew all of this was just a last resort though, good only for a distraction—I held no illusions about being able to do anything to stop the barbaric captain once he truly started.

"I'm glad everyone's looking lively today," a sweet, motherly voice said behind them.

"_Unohana-san_!" Ichigo almost cried out in relief.

Kenpachi's eyebrows twitched as he glared at the gate.

Unohana-taichou walked in with a calm demeanor and a lovely smile. "It's always wonderful to see you all very energetic. But I hope we can use this energy to finish the tower today. You see…" she paused between the two captains and opened her eyes slowly. "…it is _really important_ that we get this done on time."

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Ichigo gulped. "Understood…taichou."

The same small smile just stayed on the motherly face, as if nothing was wrong. She didn't even hint at anything, really.

Slowly, Kenpachi straightened up and looked at Ichigo with the unspoken promise of murder. "_Che_. Next time, you're dead, Ichigo."

The first Kenpachi's face relaxed into a serene smile, her dark blue eyes disappearing in the process. She looked gently over her shoulder and called out to her lieutenant. "You may bring it in now, Isane."

An entire platoon of shinigamis from the Fourth Squad brought in a gigantic, crystalline orb that barely fit through the entrance. My eyes widened fractionally as I recognized some of the shinigamis in the front as the ten highest seated officers of the Fourth Squad. Then my eyes darted to the orb they have hauled in.

If I was correct in thinking that this was the same as that palm-sized reiatsu-consuming object that Ichigo delivered to the Fourth the other day, then that would explain why all the blood had drained from my young captain's face.

I sighed quietly, then stepped to Unohana-taichou. It seemed that no one else had thought of doing what was supposed to be done, anyway. "Please tell us what we need to do, Unohana-taichou."

* * *

Unable to help it any longer, I let myself drop to the ground in exhaustion. Forget _construction_—all I did was hold that damned ball for a minute. One goddamned _minute_.

"Are you alright, taichou?" my equally worn out squad members asked me, plopping down beside me.

I straightened my back and smiled at them lightly. "I'm alright. No need to worry. Thanks anyway." _Lucky you_.You_ didn't have to touch that damn sphere_. "_I'm_ fine. Kenpachi…isn't."

We all looked at the direction of the Eleventh Squad captain, lying spread eagled on the ground, no longer moving. In the distance, his pink-haired lieutenant had her cheeks puffed out in annoyance, driving the squad into the ground with work.

I thought that this has got to be the first time I saw Yachiru and Kenpachi in any given place without being together. Moreover, this has also got to be the first time I saw the child-like lieutenant looking pissed. Looking around me briefly and taking in the various expressions, I figured it was their first time as well.

"Faster! _Faster_!" Yachiru said, stomping her foot impatiently. "Ken-chan did not haul that ball up there only to have it brought back down. Faaasteeer! Come on, _move_! You heard it—we need to finish this today. _Mou_!"

For a squad full of fight-loving bastards, they sure were putty under the small shinigami's hands. Putty—or just damn scared of the fuming Yachiru. At any rate, it was definitely an interesting sight.

I surveyed the topmost part of the tower, squinting to see the shinigamis working their way up in order to secure the last pieces of the reiatsu-restricting materials that needed to be braced around the orb thingy. They were almost there, but the climb was proving to be harder than they have initially expected. I restrained myself from smirking—at least I wasn't the only one who had a taste of those reiatsu-draining nightmares. But of course, it was an added complication that they were carrying unreasonably heavy loads—various whatnot for the construction part, such as hammers and nails.

I shuddered to think how Unohana-taichou could handle a sphere like that on her own without ending up like Kenpachi. I have learned long ago never to underestimate the most gentle-looking captain among the thirteen—even more so than Ukitake-san—but this was just…_unbelievable_. She has got to be a monster under that shihakusho. _Scary_.

I stood up, immediately copied by the four beside me. They all flashed me good-natured smiles, like they truly enjoyed working under my direction. The thought made me…_happy_. Of course it did.

I grinned back at them. "Let's get this done, guys. Then we can go back and have that well-deserved dinner."

Stretching my arms and legs along the way, I walked to the base of the tower. Behind me, my squad members gathered the tools they need.

"_Oops_," I breathed as my haori—which had been flying around nonstop in the blowing wind—got snagged on a protruding piece of wooden post riddled with nails. I tugged on it lightly, but to my dismay, the haori did not seem to want to come off that easily. "_Damn_—who left this thing out here, anyway? This is freaking _dangerous_," I muttered as I tried to free the fabric without getting it torn.

For some unfathomable reason that I would probably never understand anyway, the Old Man saw fit to send me a jigokuchou at once point, telling me to _defend and preserve the life of my haori at any and all costs_.

"Damn that old geezer," I snorted, trying to be patient.

One moment, I was busy trying to get a particularly rusty nail off my haori…then all of a sudden, there were shouts.

"Look out!"

"Get _away_ from—"

"_Tsuriboshi_!"

…the sound of heavy glass breaking…

"…run!"

"_Taichou_…!"

Without fully raising my head, I realized that one of the workers working their way up must have slipped. Somehow, I managed to see through the disjointed mass that none of the shinigamis have actually lost their grip on the tower—_safe, _I thought in relief. And it was only after I have ascertained that no one fell off that I realized what I was looking at in the first place.

With an almost comical delay, I realized with a gasp that the disjointed mass I was squinting through earlier was actually the bulk of the materials that were being hauled up the tower, falling down towards where I stood with the speed of gravity.

My hand twitched as I prepared to defend myself. But I only had time to remember that Zangetsu wasn't on my back—one of a captain's restrictions.

"_Shit_," I breathed.

For the shortest moment, I felt something wrap around me…

A warm weight pressed against my body briefly. The pressure…it felt oddly comfortable—

—then it was gone.

I suddenly felt myself flying backwards.

My cheek scratched against the ground painfully as I landed on my side and rolled over about three times before the momentum stopped propelling my body forward.

"_Ow_," I groaned, my shaking fingers hovering over the stinging graze on y face. Forget the snag from the rusty nail—my haori was now almost divided into two, and my shihakusho had turned a dusty brown.

I looked back at the debris that now rested on the very spot where I stood just mere moments before—the air around was still sizzling with reiatsu from the more sensitive materials that shattered upon impact.

When I realized that the shinigamis around were still yelling frantically, I frowned. Then I heard what they were actually saying…

"_Kira-fukutaichou_!" my own squad members yelled desperately, flocking over the mound of debris.

I felt all the blood drain from my face.

"_Where's Kira_?" I demanded, pushing shinigamis aside as they surrounded me, ignoring the deeply pulsing bruise on my left side.

Acting quickly, other shinigamis have already started dismantling the smoking mess, ignoring the sparks of energy in the air. When they lifted a particularly large stone slab, I saw the tiniest bit of blond hair…

"Kira! _Kiraaa_!" I roared, forgetting where I was or who I was supposed to be.

Strong sets of arms quickly wrapped around me, causing me to thrash around even more.

"_Taichou_! Please calm down!"

"Shut up! Let me go!" I bellowed, pain scraping through my throat as I shouted with all my might. "_Calm down_?! How _dare_ you tell me to calm down! You _calm_ the _fuck_ down, and _let—go—of—me_!"

With a wild burst of uncontrolled reiatsu, I managed to shake them all off of me and dived into the rubble recklessly.

I roared again in frustrated anger when I discovered I couldn't lift the things off quickly enough.

"_Taichou_!"

I bared his teeth in a wild snarl. "_Shut the fuck up_!"

"Get your sorry ass the hell out of there, Ichigo," a gruff voice said behind me.

The next moment, I was easily plucked off my feet and thrown down into the ground with enough force to pound a normal human's body into a bloody mess. By the time I have jumped back to my feet—a keening, broken sound issuing from my throat unconsciously—the mountain of rubble was already gone.

Lying on the ground was…

"_Kira_…" I gasped.

His black shihakusho was smoking and tattered, exposing slits of bruised flesh.

I dropped to his knees at once, his entire being ceasing to function.

"_I…Izu…_"

My hands fluttered helplessly over the limp figure.

Under the battered and broken body, the scorched earth slowly turned dark with the quickly pooling blood of my unconscious lieutenant.

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

…_I shivered as my lips moved softly against Kira's, finally tasting my lieutenant for the first time…_


	8. Chapter 7 - Winding Binding Chains

_**VERY IMPORTANT NOTE:**_

**There, I capitalized, bolded, italicized and underlined it in order to emphasize its importance. :)) To my dear readers, if you have read the older version of this story (the one before the re-post, where the writing style I used was narrative from the third-person PoV), I'm sorry for the inconvenience because you really have to go back and read the re-posted chapters before you proceed. I have changed a few things (although not whole scenes), contrary to what I said that I won't be changing anything. The 'change' I made was bound to happen one way or another anyway—it makes more sense that way. If you've already read them, then by all means, enjoy this new chapter. Thank you very much for reading.**

**If you are a new reader (in other words, you have no idea what I'm talking about, have never heard of the 're-post'), please disregard this author's note and kindly proceed with reading. I hope you enjoy **_**A Captain's Promise**_** as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

* * *

**Previously on "A Captain's Promise":**

_For the shortest moment, I felt something wrap around me… A warm weight pressed against my body briefly. The pressure…it felt oddly comfortable, then it was gone._

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

_**Winding, Binding Chains**_

I was half out of my mind.

"Don't _touch_ him! _Get away_!" I roared wildly as shinigamis tried to put their hands on Kira…on his wounded, limp figure on the ground. "Get—your—_fucking_—hands—_off_—him—_nooooow_!"

Another wave of frantic muttering—or maybe it _was_ shouting, I could no longer tell—broke through my attention. Somehow, I knew he must be exuding an ungodly amount of reiatsu, but I couldn't care less at the moment.

A tiny, uncaring bit of me realized I must have looked deranged, maybe even feral—almost like a _hollow_—to the others. Even through blurry eyes, I could see all of them—even Kenpachi—keeping their distance as I keened over the fallen form of my pale lieutenant.

"Get it together, kid," Kenpachi growled, keeping Yachiru back with an outstretched hand. In the background, I could vaguely hear a high pitched voice yelling for squad members to send a butterfly immediately to the Fourth.

Aside from the almost violent pulse of my own frenzied reiatsu, I couldn't feel nor register anything else. All I truly understood was that Kira was on the ground before me, injured and unconscious and bleeding badly.

Realizing I had to do something—_anything_—I carefully gathered Kira's body into my arms. I couldn't just wait there for medical help, not when I could move and run just fine. And especially not when it was _my_ lieutenant involved.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Ichigo?" Ikkaku demanded, walking towards me with large strides. "Put Kira-fukutaichou down. _Now_."

"Kurosaki-kun, a team from the Fourth is already on its way here," Yumichika said in an assuaging tone, approaching more carefully than the other shinigami did.

They could have been talking to a stone for all the help their words did. There was nothing on my mind aside from how I thought that this was just like my worst fears have come true.

_Kira_…limp and lifeless in my arms.

Without thinking any more, I pulled Kira against my body protectively and flash-stepped out of the Eleventh's grounds and hurtled towards the Fourth with total abandon.

Every moment dragged on like a year to me as I feared that I might never see those pale blue eyes again, that it might be _too late_, that Kira might succumb to internal bleeding… And every grim thought only served to fuel my recklessness as I took to the roofs without slowing down even the tiniest bit, paying no attention to the breaking tiles and cracking walls I left in my wake. I _wouldn't_ stop until I reached the Fourth, nor could anyone stop me.

I tried not to scream in frustration as I flew past other shinigamis at breakneck speed. Kira was already so pale to begin with, but now…he just looked _ashen_. His fair hair was streaked with red, and trickles of blood ran down his temples. And his body—his normally supple and durable figure—was just limp in my arms.

"Kira…" I gasped, biting back a sob, as I rounded corner after corner recklessly. The sharp edges barely missed me by a hairsbreadth. "_Kira_… Hey… _Come on_, open your eyes."

I bit down on my lip viciously to stop myself from breaking down completely. I wanted to lash out, to destroy everything in sight, to go back and pound those incompetent workers into mush, to kill myself for allowing Kira to get hurt… I wanted to just break down and cry but I _couldn't_. Kira… Kira _needed_ me.

"Tai…"

I stiffened.

"…_chou_…"

I almost stopped in my tracks, but I managed to convert the surprise into urgency. I threw myself into the run faster than before, to the point I could barely see where I was going.

"_Taichou_…" Kira breathed, stirring faintly in my arms.

I almost broke out in joy and relief then. But I controlled himself. "Sshh… I'll bring you to Unohana-san. Don't…" I winced as I barely avoided a large tree that seemed to be a part of the Fifth Squad. I could feel a stinging cut on my scalp. "…speak just yet."

I have flash-stepped past about four blocks when Kira spoke again, his voice coming out in no more than a painful-sounding rasp.

"Are you…_alright_…tai…chou?"

My throat constricted and my vision suddenly blurred as something came crashing down on me—Kira _knew_ this would happen, but he still threw himself at me…

"_Please_…" I forced out somehow—I couldn't afford to get all emotional now. Kira might have opened his eyes, but I wasn't unaware of the warm wetness dripping down my arms from where I held my lieutenant. "We're _almost_ there, Kira. Hang on…"

Without warning, Kira's eyes suddenly turned glassy…

"Ah y…lright…chou…?"

My blood grew cold at the sound of my lieutenant's breath somehow forming words in desperation…

"_Kira_, hey…" I nudged frantically, jumping to the next high roof without giving a damn about my own safety. "I'm _fine_, Kira. I'm fine, so just hang on… Kira…_hey_."

I blinked the wetness out of my own eyes furiously.

_How can I be alright? You idiot! Goddamn it. You're bleeding, and hurt, and broken… How can you expect me to be alright? You're so cruel, Izuru…_

His eyes fluttered close, a small smile tugging at his lips faintly from the corners.

"Kira…_HEY!_ Open your eyes! Goddamn it…_Kiraaa_!"

His mouth, those alluring lips almost devoid of color now, moved ever so slightly. If I wasn't waiting for a response like my life depended on it, I would have never heard the lieutenant's whispered last words.

"_So…rry… Ichi…go._"

I almost lost it right there.

My arms tightened around Kira instinctively, every single fiber of my body vowing fiercely that I would never let go.

Looking at the glistening tears that wetted Kira's own pale lashes, I just knew that somewhere inside—somewhere carefully hidden away from other eyes—Kira was broken and in pain. The thought itself was nearly enough to break me.

Thankfully, before the last of my self-restraint went up in flames, the insignia of the Fourth Squad came into view.

I pressed my forehead against Kira's briefly, and promised him fiercely right there and then.

"I'm right here, Izuru. I will _never_ leave you."

* * *

I watched Ichigo as he got to his feet with a boyish smile, just as I always have before, even back when the boy was only called a ryoka and was practically tearing Soul Society apart. I watched him now too, never truly getting over the young shinigami's intriguing character.

Following Ichigo's unexpectedly graceful bearing as he marched towards the base of the tower, I realized how long that shockingly orange hair had grown. Its tips no longer pressed against the boy's neck—it now rested quite interestingly over the stiff collar of Ichigo's haori. His ears were also almost invisible under the fine locks of bright hair. And the slightly rumpled look suited the young captain quite well, I thought with a fierce rush of pleasure.

It couldn't have been that long ago when the boy was only considered a disturbance, a _threat_ to the peace of Seireitei, and yet now he now stood among the ranks of captains. So much has changed in such a short time.

Before, he was just a lanky, incapable, arrogant teenager. An ignorant youngster who did not understand the pride of the shinigami. Now he wore a haori and led an entire division during one of the most crucial periods for Soul Society.

I sighed contentedly as I watched the number _three_ on Ichigo's back wave in the billowing air.

I have watched from the sidelines as the boy, the ryoka called Kurosaki Ichigo, gradually became a much-needed ally of the shinigami and a constant, immovable pillar of safety for them. As much as we wanted to not blatantly admit it, Ichigo had changed us all. His mere presence had shaken the very foundations of Seireitei and its ancient laws, and he continued to break boundaries and traditions.

Now he was our squad's captain. _Ours_. Kurosaki Ichigo.

My eyes traced over the boy's impressive features almost greedily. Ichigo had a very toned body. And even though it was almost impossible to tell from the loose hakama and the wide sleeves of their shihakusho, I've already seen enough before to be able to tell. More than just strength or incredible power, Ichigo had a _body_ that many would die for.

His muscles were lean and well-developed, giving him an angular beauty that was rare at best. The way he carried himself was reminiscent of nobility, in some ways that surpass even Kuchiki Byakuya. And he just had this air about him that was reassuring, like nothing could possibly go wrong with him around. It soothed my internal distress, more than I would ever admit to anyone, maybe even to myself.

I wanted to _know_ him badly, I realized as my eyes remained fixed on Ichigo's back. I wanted to feel for myself Ichigo's strength. I wanted to _experience_ it…to have a taste of it. And that, perhaps, was the reason why I have always been drawn to the boy, watching…_always_ watching.

It was different now though, I thought happily. We were now bonded in a way that I have never imagined even my wildest dreams, bonded by the badge on my left arm and the haori on Ichigo's back—the haori which was, incidentally, currently snagged carelessly on a stray piece of discarded wooden post which was probably a part of the makeshift shack they had to demolish earlier in order to proceed with the speedy construction.

I bit back a smile—for all the grace the boy unexpectedly possessed, he still managed to retain a certain degree of clumsiness. Like a lovely marigold with tiny pinches at the ends of each petal, like tiny evidences that its beauty was natural and alive. He was truly…_endearing_.

For a few moments, I just watched as Ichigo's brows furrowed in frustration as his fingers worked on the snag. By the looks of it, it seemed to me that Ichigo was paying careful attention to the task in an effort to not tear his haori. I felt surprise surge through him again—here was another thing that set Ichigo apart from the other captains. _He_, at least, paid attention to the Head Captain's directive about keeping haoris in good condition.

Eventually, I stood up and decided to just help Ichigo—one little gesture shouldn't hurt. I was just serving my captain, I told myself. Besides, it did not look to me as if the boy's patience was long enough for the menial task.

But just as I allowed myself a small smile at the thought of touching that haori, touching _Ichigo_, a chorus of shouts pierced through the relative silence. _Alarmed_ shouts…

My eyes darted up at once, noticing the sudden disappearance of light. Before I could blink, light flooded over me once more. There was a moment of confusion…then I realized what I was seeing.

The shinigamis who have almost made it to the top of the tower had an accident of some kind, and a massive load of reiatsu-restricting matter was hurtling towards to the ground.

Beside him, Yumichika dug his feet into the ground and yelled. "_Bakudou no sanjuunana, Tsuriboshi_!"

For one confused moment, I just stared at the Eleventh Squad shinigami—he had just cast a _bakudou_… A member of Zaraki Kenpachi's infamous battle squad, reputed to be the strongest among the Thirteen Court Guardians…

There was a deafening crashing sound, like that of glass breaking. Yumichika's eyes flashed to me angrily. "Kira-_fukutaichou_!"

The falling heap of materials have started crackling in the air, a vortex of energy spinning around it in a turbulent storm. All around them, shinigamis of lesser reiatsu have already fallen to the ground, half-knocked out from the mere density of the energy.

The ground where the debris was bound to fall was clear…_except_ for Ichigo.

"_Taichou…_!" I yelled, fear gripping my entire body.

Ichigo was just looking up at the rapidly approaching mass, his fingers frozen on the snagged spot on his haori. His lips were parted slightly, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The next thing I knew, I was already flying towards the boy. In just a heartbeat, my arms wrapped around the soft, warm body of my captain. As my grip on Ichigo tightened, I realized with a pang that the boy hadn't even braced himself for impact. His stance was almost relaxed, with only the tiniest hint of surprise. His frame was yielding and his body was compliant. Even his expression was almost tranquil, if not for the wide eyes that were the only sign of astonishment, of comprehension of his situation.

As I molded into Ichigo's frame, my cheek brushed against the boy's chest. For a fleeting moment, I realized with a savage satisfaction that our heights were ideally matched, our bodies fitting together as if halves of a whole. If given the chance to test this conclusion in a real battle, I was certain I wouldn't be disappointed.

I let out a contented sigh—for the shortest moment, I allowed myself to be selfish.

If I have been any slower, I had no doubt of what would have taken place. Ichigo would still have been standing there, only heartbeats away from tragedy. And I didn't think I could take it if the boy—my precious captain—was hurt right before my eyes, especially when I could have protected him.

So yes, I thought I earned the right to be selfish, if only for a moment…if only for a bit. This was all that I would ask for in return—a chance to wrap my arms around Ichigo. And with this, I was already satisfied. It was already worth it. Besides, I figured it would be some time before I could see the boy again. it certainly worked out in my favor that the one thing I wanted was the same as the one I needed to do in order to save my captain.

I buried my face into Ichigo's chest, my fingers digging into the boy's back, for the smallest fraction of a second. For the first time in decades, I thought I was going to give out to sensory overload. Every nerve ending in my body was tingling with the unbelievable heat coming from Ichigo.

_Yes_…entirely worth it.

But the moment for selfishness was quickly over—I needed to do what I must. Steeling myself, I put both palms on Ichigo's shoulders and whispered under my breath.

"_Bakudou no hachi_…_Seki_."

He thought I heard Ichigo's surprised gasp. And I definitely saw the boy's chocolate eyes, even though Ichigo probably didn't see me. I wanted to chuckle at the sight. If this wasn't worth it, I had no idea what was.

I watched as Ichigo flew backwards from the strength of the binding spell—I felt a tinge of annoyance with myself for using kidou, but there was just no other choice. Besides, if Ichigo was safe, I would eventually learn to accept my decision. A few scratches won't kill the boy anyway—I knew _that_ well. I let relief flood through me. At least Ichigo was out of harm's way now.

I barely had time to see Ichigo stop rolling on the ground before a blinding pain shot all over my body. A crushing black immediately took over me, then I was gone.

* * *

_What a funny kid… So he's the one._ Ichigo… _I don't know the details, but they fought with Ichimaru and survived. Those ryoka are worth killing… _Ichigo…

…

_As for the Eleventh Squad, we have reports that they have essentially been annihilated. _Ichi…go…_the ryoka was seen wearing a shihakusho, and had bright orange hair._

…

Ichigo…_ He defeated Kuchiki-taichou._ Ichigo… _You must understand by now… They are the saviors of Soul Society._ Ichigo…

* * *

I knew I couldn't have blacked out for too long, but when I opened my eyes, nothing around me made sense. No—it wasn't that it didn't make sense… Everything was suddenly only a blur, like I was watching the world spinning way too fast for me to see anything properly. For a moment, I thought that the impact had somehow damaged my vision, but then I realized almost immediately that that was not the case.

There was one thing I could see clearly—a young boy with orange hair wearing a haori…

_Ichigo._

My heart thudded a bit too hard against my chest I he realized with satisfaction that Ichigo was alright. For a moment, it was a little harder to breathe.

As I focused on his captain's face, it slowly came to my muddled attention that there was a searing warmth pressed against my entire side. The warmth was…_deep_. Comforting. Pleasing. Soothing. The sensation was seeping into my skin and spreading throughout m body in delicate caresses. I almost moaned at the pleasure.

Such a wonderful, delicious heat… I wanted _more_.

As I tried to move—I wanted to feel the heat to spread more, to envelop my mostly numb body completely—the warmth wrapped around me obligingly, tightening its embrace reassuringly.

For a dizzy moment, I thought he'd pass out from the intensity of the pure bliss that coursed through my body. But the joy, like any other good thing, was short-lived. Reality pulled me back to the surface, dragging me out of my temporary heaven unhappily.

I have realized why Ichigo's arms would be wrapped around me as if I would disappear any moment, why everything was nothing but a haze to my heavy lidded eyes.

My young captain was, without a doubt, flying through Seireitei—racing towards the Fourth Squad almost blindly. I tried to speak, to tell Ichigo so many thing, but my voice had somehow deserted me. Where my vocal cords should be, I felt nothing a flowing warmth. I knew I should be concerned, especially since I could feel a few branches of the calming heat trickling down my throat perceptibly, but my mind felt oddly detached at the moment. And there were more pressing things flooding my thoughts, seizing this moment when my guard was down to attack and make themselves known…

_You know taichou, I was so nervous when I first found out you were going to be our new captain. You have no idea… And the dreams I had right after…_

_That night was…brutal. If there was a way I could forget those dreams, I would readily pay any price. If only to erase the images of you bleeding and dying and screaming…_

_I still haven't apologized for not being there when you arrived at the barracks. I'm such a failure, taichou… I'm so sorry. I've been…weak. I don't deserve to be your lieutenant… But I can't just leave… I don't want to leave… I'm so selfish. Weak and selfish…_

_Taichou…there's something I need to confess to you… I tried to…I mean, I almost did…but not quite… Taichou…God, this is hard… Even though I know it's wrong, I still want to do it…even now…_

_I tried to kiss you, Taichou…that night when I was so lost and confused and worried._

_I was just so broken…like I was never really whole…and then you were suddenly there…_

_I thought you were drunk. I thought you were lost. I thought you just wanted to forget that you were forced into this job… Yes, I now know about how the Onmitsukidou had to drag you to your appointment in front of the other captains. I still can't look at Soifon-taichou in the eye because of it… I'm afraid she'll see the fury burning in my eyes. It wasn't her fault…but I still can't accept it. Wabisuke wants to cut so badly I can barely handle it._

_I'm sorry taichou… I was just trying to see if you were inebriated like Shuuhei and Rangiku mentioned, but… Your face, your warm breaths stirring my lashes, your lips… I realized there was just no stopping it… But somehow…I managed. How I wish I didn't… Almost…_

_I don't know what got into me, what made me think that way…like a kiss was the most appropriate thing to do at the moment. No, not even appropriate… If I'm being honest with myself, I thought it was the only thing to do…like anything else would be wrong. Insufficient…_

_I'm torn, Taichou… Torn between regretting that wanted to kiss you while you were unconscious, and torn between regretting how I've let the only chance I have slip away… I'm just so weak. Nothing I ever do is right. I'm…lost._

_I don't know how to deal with these feelings… I've never been angry and worried and yearning and ecstatic all at once. I'm afraid I can't take it. I'm not strong enough, taichou…_

_Will I ever be strong enough? Is that even possible for someone like me? Will I ever earn the right to stand beside you? Will you ever…cherish that I became your lieutenant?_

_I'm in your arms right now, but you're not even the slightest bit happy about it. It makes me sad, somehow… But I'll deal with that later—what's important is that you're alright._

_But are you? Alright, I mean. I can barely see you. Are you really alright, taichou? Are you not injured anywhere? Why are you the one carrying me? Surely, someone must have called for the Fourth Squad… Why didn't you just wait for the medical team? Am I…dying?_

_That's it…isn't it? Oh my God…_

_But no—it's alright. I'm fine with that… As long as you're safe. As long as you're alright… I wouldn't mind anything anymore._

_How about you? I wish you'd at least tell me that you're fine, that you're not hurt… I want to know if I've done something right for the first time._

_I'm sorry you had someone as pathetic as me for a lieutenant…_

_Ichigo… I want you to know though, I'm happy you were my captain. If I can no longer tell you this myself, at least I've admitted it… I would gladly do this all over again._

…_there can be no greater honor._

Even the words in my mind stopped flowing as the last of my strength left my body. I was barely even breathing now. My senses have gone long before, leaving me with just a blurred sight, and a lingering feeling of heat surrounding me, gently fading into the background as well. Everything slowly succumbed to the creeping dark.

I smiled to myself as I realized that some of my words—I had no idea which—have somehow reached Ichigo. I could tell, because Ichigo responded. Of course I was disappointed that I could no longer hear what my captain was saying, but knowing was still better than nothing.

My hearing was just way too unfocused, but I could see Ichigo's full lips moving, shaping words I would definitely want to hear someday. Perhaps I'd get a chance to ask him to repeat them for me…

I tried to tell Ichigo that there was no reason for him to worry, that I wasn't feeling any pain despite what I must look like, but my voice remained resolutely useless. I did not give up easily, but eventually I stopped trying to speak. I just contented myself with looking at Ichigo through half-lidded eyes.

My eyes traced the boy's features, memorizing them with every pass. I lingered on every plain, every tiny mark, every detail, then I would do it all over again…

Such was my mind's deterioration—I felt really _really_ tired now, like I haven't slept a wink for so many years—that it took me a long time before I realized there was a spot of crusting blood on Ichigo's cheek. As my chest tightened, I saw that there were also crimson marks on Ichigo's shihakusho.

I have…failed after all, then?

The thought brought tears to my eyes. I was never strong. And I was weaker now than ever. Of course I'd feel broken.

But then, Ichigo whispered something to me—I was surprised I even heard it. Someone must have pitied me…

"I'm right here, _Izuru_. I will never leave you."

I felt his heart skip an entire beat, then an overwhelming joy washed over me…leaving me to float away in an infinite, solitary black.

* * *

It had been two days since I charged into the Fourth Squad, surprising everyone with the sight of my lieutenant propped in my arms, dripping with fresh blood. Only Unohana-taichou managed to not look so disturbed by the sight of such a high-ranked officer getting so hurt in a relatively safe event in Soul Society. Everyone else reacted spectacularly, forgetting that they were regarding the two top officers of the Third Squad.

It had been two days…

I stirred from where I slept at the edge of my lieutenant's bed, in the dead of the night, with a start. I felt Kira's fingers tighten around mine—I haven't realized that I've fallen asleep in that position, sitting right on the edge Kira's bed, our fingers weakly intertwined. I sat up at once, never letting go of the pale hand.

"Kira?" I whispered in the dark, my heart beating fast.

The nowhere-near-serious wounds Kira had gotten when he pushed me out of harm's way were all but healed now. They weren't even the slightest bit life-threatening in the first place. After Unohana-taichou had calmed me down, I was forced to admit that I freaked out because all that blood was such a damn scary sight, especially considering how Kira was a very pale person. It also complicated the situation that he was an easy bleeder, no matter how shallow some of his wounds were.

When Kira had still been asleep after a whole day of being deeply under, even though his wounds were already healed, I have…_well_.

To put it simply, I have _gone crazy_ again. Freaked out. Unohana-taichou had to use healing kidou—as well as bakudou—to force me to calm down. She had told me that Kira would wake up when he was ready. So I stayed right there, refusing to move, never letting my lieutenant out of my sight.

I have said through gritted teeth, "You forced me into this. If you want to force me out too, you had better drag Soifon and the whole of Onmitsukidou in here. That's the only way you'd get me to leave, if you even can…" After that, Unohana-taichou arranged for us to have our own room on the third floor. She said something about our reiatsu starting to affect the other patients in the infirmary.

"_Kira_," I sighed in relief as my lieutenant's fingers curled around mine again, telling me wordlessly that he was already awake. _At last_.

I could barely see anything in the dark, but there was something about Kira's skin that made him visible even with just the faint moonlight shining in from the open windows. It was almost as if the moon was hiding inside his body and was glowing brightly from within, giving him a beautiful, translucent look.

Slowly, Kira opened his eyes, his lashes brushing softly against his cheek as he blinked.

"You wanna get up?" I asked gently as Kira made faint sitting motions. He nodded weakly.

Wrapping an arm around Kira's shoulders gingerly, I helped him sit up and lean back on the headboard. I bit back a grimace as I felt only weak strength in Kira's body as he helped himself sit up. Even Ishida could knock him down like this.

Instead of moving away afterwards, I just dropped my arm and remained sitting right in front of him. I was aware that I was leaning close to Kira…_way_ too close, in fact. But things like etiquette and personal space was nowhere near the top of my priorities now. I wanted to know whether my lieutenant was alright, and I wouldn't even think of anything else until I have ascertained this.

I looked into Kira's eyes and locked gazes with him. "Do you want me to call someone…?" When Kira just shook his head, I felt relieved, for reasons I couldn't quite name at the moment. "Would you like some water, then?"

I poured some water into a glass from the bedside table as Kira just continued to watch me with bright eyes. In the moonlight, the lieutenant's eyes were a striking silver, with just the faintest hint of blue.

I held the glass to Kira's lips carefully as he sipped water. I tried not to think how thirsty Kira looked—I could feel my own throat burning with a parched kind of pain as I thought of the condition Kira had been in when he was first brought in. It reminded me of how much I've screamed myself until I was hoarse, until it felt like my throat was bleeding from the torture…

Kira took a deep breath after finishing the whole glass in just a few gulps. The action only emphasized the dark circles under his eyes. I frowned—the last two days of unconsciousness have taken its toll on Kira, no matter what Unohana-taichou said about Kira being lucky he had gotten away with nothing but minor injuries. Even his hair was limp and not its usual sharply elegant.

My mind swimming with guilty thoughts, I slowly raised a hand and traced the corner of Kira's mouth, my fingers catching a bead of excess water on his lower lip. When Kira's mouth quivered slightly, I quickly dropped my hand and looked down at my lap, not really seeing anything.

A sudden fear had jolted through me—for a moment there, I have been afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself. Merely touching Kira's lips did unbelievable things to my self-restraint. It made me want to…_do_ things. To push him back down on the bed and straddle him. To crush my lips into his and kiss him like tomorrow would never come. To touch his body all over and explore him slowly.

And Kira wasn't helping things at all… Here he was, staring at me intently even though I won't even meet his piercing gaze. And he wasn't saying anything at all, even though he should be offended by the proximity, by what I have just done. It was inappropriate of me, but he wasn't punching me for it. He's doing _nothing_, and that's what made it so _hard_…

Of course the best course of action would be for me to move away now, but I wasn't even considering it. I didn't want to. I _couldn't_. That would be equivalent to me trying to stop my heart from beating—it was freaking _impossible_.

"Why are you here?" Kira asked quietly in a still hoarse voice, making me jerk up in surprise. Kira's eyes widened for a moment, then he clarified. "I mean…have you even slept? Shouldn't you be at the Third at this time of night? You look…_tired_."

I felt like choking—did he seriously _think_ I could rest easy knowing that my lieutenant was still unconscious in the infirmary after saving me? Was _that_ how Kira thought of me?

"_You_…" I growled, trying to keep a hold of my raging emotions. "You almost killed _me_…Kira."

Kira's lips twitched faintly at the corners—and the faint movement looked suspiciously like an amused reaction. I tried not to shout at the blond shinigami right then, but it did not help that Kira's next words told me plainly that I wasn't being taken seriously.

"I'm the patient here, you know," my lieutenant quipped quietly, his eyes bright with humor—a sentiment that I certainly did _not_ share, and made sure showed on my face.

"You know what I'm talking about," I grunted, my fists closing tightly on the rumpled sheets. "You're not being funny… You tore my heart out of my chest, and you clearly have no idea how much that…_hurt_."

For a moment, no one spoke. We just studied each other's expressions, our eyes tracing what little we could see of each other's faces under the patch of moonlight shining down on us. The searching gazes we exchanged somehow felt deeper than any conversation could ever be. It was almost as if we were baring our souls for the other to examine.

Eventually though, Kira broke the spell and spoke in the same low voice. "What happened to me?"

My eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "You fell unconscious, then you were asleep for two days."

Kira's eyes bored into me sharply. "You know what I mean, Ichigo." I jerked at the mention of my name, then sighed in defeat as Kira leaned closer to me. "Tell me…_please_."

I tried to think around the loud crashing of blood behind my ears and the creeping heat setting my face on fire in order to tell him just exactly what happened to him…but I realized the task was impossible anyway, even without Kira's breathtaking intensity.

It still _stung_, I thought sadly—everything about it, even just the mere _memory_ of it, was still vicious enough to make my chest contract in pain. Never mind that my lieutenant was fine and awake and right in front of me now.

I have watched the entire time as Fourth Squad healers slowly mended Kira despite Unohana-taichou's protests. She had said something about not wanting me to suffer any more than I already have, but I couldn't just leave my lieutenant. How could I leave someone who was writhing in agony when it was supposed to be _me_?

Yes, it still tormented me. I would never be able to bring myself to speak them. But he wanted to know…so instead of saying them out loud, I just…_showed_ him.

My hand slowly raised itself, my fingers reaching for Kira's face. The other shinigami stopped breathing abruptly when my fingertips brushed along the cold skin of his jaw, following invisible trails.

"_Here_," I breathed almost inaudibly. I wished he wouldn't want to know details. I hoped knowing _where_ he was injured would be enough.

Without waiting for him to say anything, my gaze and fingers slowly moved up to his temples where a lock of flaxen hair hid half of his face. My touch lingered on the hairline, where two days ago, blood ran profusely.

Leaving my fingers to wind through Kira's hair, I raised my other hand and gently brushed it over Kira's collarbone. Then, without warning, I placed his hand on a spot on his chest. I paused for a while, feeling the gentle thudding of my lieutenant's heart under my fingertips. Then I continued my silent enumeration.

My touch ghosted over Kira's ribcage, making the shinigami shiver slightly, until it rested on his pelvis.

I looked into Kira's eyes briefly, conveying wordlessly how painful seeing him broken has been. When Kira didn't say anything, didn't do anything—didn't even _blink_—I closed my eyes and moved my hand to the worst of Kira's wounds.

My fingers traced softly over the now-smooth flesh of Kira's inner thigh, remembering the rather deep gash caused by broken glass. The blood loss had been a real issue…

Kira gasped sharply as my hand clamped down on his sensitive skin involuntarily, the memory proving to be still too much for me.

"You have no idea," I breathed as I tried to breathe normally, giving up on shaking the memories off. They weren't going away soon, even though Kira was fine now. "You don't _know_…"

My eyes widened when I felt a cold touch brush against my cheek. After meeting the lieutenant's sorrowful expression, I realized that Kira had seen my wound there before he passed out.

"Did it hurt?" he whispered, his bright eyes piercing straight into my soul. "Did it, Ichigo?"

My breath hitched in my throat as I carefully untangled my fingers from Kira's hair and placed it over Kira's hand on my cheek.

"This didn't," I murmured, "but _this_ did." I took Kira's other hand and placed it over my own heart.

Kira leaned forward just a bit more, and touched his forehead to mine. "I'm _sorry_. I really am…but I had to do it."

I sighed again, shaking my head slightly, ruffling our hair. "It hurts anyway."

Another deep silence ensued after that, but the lull didn't last as long. I noticed that Kira wanted to stand up and go to the window so, without saying anything, I helped my lieutenant up to his feet.

Kira managed a few steps on his own, but he tripped not too long after, his coordination no doubt still suffering from his previous injuries. I immediately caught him and held on to him, no longer taking chances with his well-being. I only allowed Kira to walk on his own in the first place because I didn't think it would do the shinigami's pride any good if I didn't even trust him to be able to walk.

I caught him before he could fall, but instead of letting go afterwards, I embraced him tightly. I wrapped my arms around him, determined not to let go even if he pushed me away.

When Kira moved, I only crushed him to me more instinctively. I couldn't help it anymore—this was so beyond my control now. All I could feel running through me, mind and body, was a desire to feel Kira in my arms. To hold him tight. To not let go.

"I'm not going _anywhere_," he breathed, his hands brushing against my sides as he returned my embrace. "I'm _here_… I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to hold me so tight."

I swallowed through the lump in my throat. "But…"

"_Ichigo_…" he sighed, his fingers digging weakly into the muscles on my back.

A warm, unfamiliar feeling stirred through me as he said my name again in that low voice of his. And when he spoke, I felt his lips moving against my shoulder—almost at my neck—where I was most sensitive. When he sighed, his warm breath brushing over my skin made me shiver, sending sparks running down my spine. Every nerve-ending in my body was singing with life.

I have never felt so…_alive_.

"_Izuru_," I whispered back, my arms wrapping around him tighter.

I could feel every line of him flush against my body—we were pressed together in so many places it had to be _impossible_ to pull us apart now. I could feel _him_ on me…_everywhere_.

"…again," I heard him say.

I burrowed my head in his hair, inhaling deeply. "Hmm?"

He, in turn, buried his face deeper into my neck, his lips brushing faintly across my throat. "Say it again…for me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing… I parted my lips. "Izuru…"

Kira nuzzled my neck slowly, sighing something unintelligible. There was no need to hear it anyway—I already understood.

"_Izuru_," I said again, making him sigh once more in satisfaction. Then I was rewarded with gentle presses of his lips on a dip on my neck, right beside my adam's apple.

After a few more moments, Kira's hands slowly dropped to his sides, jolting me back into reality. I let go of him as well.

I looked into Kira's face searchingly, only to find that my lieutenant won't meet my gaze. His eyes were wide and uncertain, and his fair lashes were suspiciously wet. His lips were quivering, and I could tell he was trying very hard to hide this fact. I put a finger under his chin and tilted his face to me, but Kira closed his eyes, shutting me out suddenly.

For a moment, my heart stopped as I realized my lieutenant still couldn't trust me. Despite everything that happened—even after having endangered himself just to save me—he was still _afraid_ of me.

Almost as if something inside my mind clicked into place, my eyes closed of its own accord and I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his trembling mouth.

This was, by no means, my first kiss, but…

The sheer intensity of the feeling suddenly coursing through my body as my lips rested on his… The soft, satiny feeling of his mouth on my tongue… The hesitation and the excitement and the guilt all pressed into a single burning sensation… Everything was _new_ to me.

The cold feel of his lips on mine, the incongruent heat that spread on my face, the tightening of my breathing, the delicious clenching of muscles in my belly, the telltale pooling of heat down in my nether regions, the feel of fingertips winding through my hair as I moved…

It was a different first…in so many other ways.

I could feel every beat of my heart pounding against my chest, every breath entering my lungs like a mouthful of fire. My body tingled with electricity, making me feel more alive than I ever was before. Even a sword fight to the death couldn't make me feel _this_ way.

We broke apart hesitantly, unwillingly…

"_Ichi…go…_" he breathed shakily, his hands latching on to me with fistfuls of fabric.

There was no stopping anything anymore this time.

Kira's lips parted with a sigh as my tongue pushed inside, demanding entrance into his wet, velvety heat. A soft, hesitant moan escaped from his throat as I took his lower lip between mine, sucking and licking and nipping on the soft flesh until I could feel his body moving restlessly against mine. I weaved my fingers into his hair and tugged softly, wringing more moans from him as I nibbled on his lips teasingly, my tongue tracing the shape of his mouth languidly.

I felt Kira's hands roaming all over my body when I started sucking on the tip of his tongue, his fingers brushing everywhere with maddening, feathery touches—on my arms, my neck, my chest, my waist… He was driving me _crazy_.

"_Izuru_…" I gasped weakly.

His teeth grazed my ear, panting, "I…_need_…you, Ichigo."

That was the _last_ straw for me.

Suddenly hyperaware of how hard I've gotten, I grabbed Kira's shoulders and pushed him against the wall beside the window, pinning him there with my own body.

I could feel every part of him pressing against me, and I found—to my satisfaction—that we fit each other perfectly, like our bodies were made to match each other flawlessly and wonderfully.

I dipped down to claim Kira's mouth once more in a demanding kiss, pulling and sucking and licking and moaning, then I trailed my mouth down his neck, brushing my lips against the silky flesh…adoring and revering and worshipping with kisses until my mark blossomed on the pale skin. When Kira moaned with a desperate, almost keening sound, I opened my mouth and slowly, gently sank my teeth into the skin, putting enough pressure to make sure his whole body would feel it, but not quite enough to break through.

A wild breath escaped his lips as his body jerked, almost toppling over if not for the tight hold of my body against his. I licked the bite in apology, ran my tongue over the spot again and again until the small dents disappeared, my hands rubbing his sides as the trembling of his flesh slowly subsided.

With shaking hands, he pulled my face back to his and pulled me down for a deep kiss, holding on to my mouth as if it was precious breath. At the same time, my hands mapped out his body adoringly, seeking every curve, every plane, every hidden angle.

His body was _perfect_. There was no other way to describe it. It made my head spin, all the blood rushing down to my throbbing erection. I couldn't take it anymore—I knew we could both feel it, the heat rising and _rising_ and peaking…

My hand wrapped around his equally hard member through the thin fabric of the kimono he was wearing, and squeezed gently, wringing a loud, needy, desperate moan from his lips. That one delicious sound went straight to my groin, sending my blood rushing over in mad desire like fuel to a fire.

"_I..Ichi…go…_" Kira gasped, his eyes glazed over with lust, his chest heaving with labored breaths, his knees shaking from the intensity of everything he's feeling. His fists, tightly curled around my clothes, tugged frantically. "_Ichigo_…"

I felt him buckle as I rubbed my palm over his bulging length—I could feel the heat even through his clothes. I kissed him deeper, our tongues rolling around each other, our breaths mingling together. "Hmm?"

He broke away the same time I pulled back slightly for a much-needed breath. He tilted his head away from me and breathed hard.

"_Stop_…"

My breath hitched on my throat as I heard what I thought he said. My lips parted on their own, my mind too numb with surprise. "W-what…?"

He looked back at me with a sharp turn of his head—he was breathing hard, but his eyes were burning. "I said _stop_."

* * *

The heat, the pleasure…it was _everywhere_. Ichigo's hands were everywhere. His hands traced all over my body, kneading my muscles into submission effortlessly, stirring my desire mercilessly. His touches were like breaths of fire washing over me.

Every time his skin touched mine even the slightest bit, flames break out all over my body. His fingers leave burning trails of pleasure as they ghost all over my skin, setting of sparks in my mind as I tried fruitlessly to fight my own raging desire.

I moved my mouth against his desperately, never getting enough of him, never quenching the thirst in me. I caught his tongue as it darted out to trace my lips and sucked on it eagerly, hoping it would help calm me down. But of course it didn't…it _couldn't_. I wanted _more_. More of him. _All_ of him.

As he kissed me fiercely, dominantly, possessively, an infinitesimal part of my mind thought that this was all I could ever ask for—to be held preciously and longingly, to be held so tightly I could never get away even if I wanted to. And frankly, if it was Ichigo, I would _never_ want to go—I would die before I ever do. So I kissed back just as aggressively. As much as I was his at the moment, so was he mine. Nothing else comes between us amidst this fiery pleasure…_nothing_.

Whatever sane thought I had left in my mind flew out the window the moment his warm hand wrapped around my aching erection, making me keen pleadingly, instantly desperate for more friction, more pressure. My mind was spinning violently, drowning in a lustful haze, while my body was begging for _more_.

"_Ichigo_," I gasped, a moment of sanity breaking through my clouded, fractured judgment. His touch was like a jolt of electricity straight into my malfunctioning brain—I suddenly remembered _why_ I needed to push Ichigo away. "_S-stop_," I managed to say around his demanding lips.

He stiffened as he realized what I have just said. His mouth fell open, his dark eyes boring into mine. "What?" he breathed hoarsely.

As the stunned question bubbled out of his throat, I was suddenly assaulted by a wracking wave of reiatsu. Ichigo was suddenly humming with sky-high energy, and he wasn't even aware of it. It was suffocating in its density, almost crushing me, but I couldn't falter now… I couldn't do _this_.

I mustered my courage and spoke with as much as finality as I could, "I said _stop_—"

The next thing I knew, Ichigo was holding my arms so hard it hurt. I have just opened my mouth to protest when he suddenly moved. When I opened my eyes, I was already on my bed, lying on my back. He was leaning over on top of me, hands on either side of my head, his eyes boring into my skull with a fervor I have never before seen…

"Say that _again_," he breathed.

I tried to—I _honestly_ tried to—but nothing came out of my throat. My body was no longer in my control once more, the desire coursing through my veins stronger than reason, than logic, than anything else at the moment.

When he got no answer from me after a long moment of heavy silence, Ichigo kissed me again. This time, he was no longer reserved—it was like something primal had also taken control of his body, giving his movements an edge to it. There was less control, more urgency, more _fire_.

As everything around me burned down into nothing but mind-bending sensations, I became aware of two things…

Pain _and_ pleasure.

Oh yes, there was pain… I keened and moaned and gasped in _pain_ as Ichigo's teeth almost broke through the skin of my kiss-swollen lips, only to have his urgency fanned into frenzied movements.

But there was also pleasure… My body felt like a coiled mass of electricity, crackling and sparking in _pleasure_ every time I was forced deeper into the mattress with the sheer intensity of my captain's desperate kisses.

There was a fine line between the two explosive sensations, and we played right along the edges of it, challenging both sides until our lungs were begging for breath and our bodies screaming for release, but never giving up.

For the first time in so many years, I could once again feel so…_free_. So raw and uninhibited and powerful.

"_Ichigo_…" I gasped as his mouth closed over the place where he bit me earlier, his tongue once again paying respect to my ravished skin. It was pure torture—the pain and the pleasure combined into a heady mix was overwhelming, teasing me to the edges of my sanity.

But as Ichigo tugged on the obi of the thin kimono I was wearing and the garment came loose, I _remembered_ again.

"_Stop_!"

When he just ignored me, I felt my hands curling into fists at my sides, the nails digging sharply into my palms. The biting pain kept me from giving in to the soft, sensual assaults on my throat.

I closed my eyes and hoped it wasn't too late. "_Please_…" I breathed. "Ichigo…_stop_."

Something warm and wet brimmed over from my eyes, trickling down the sides of my face.

"Please, _Ichigo_…please," I heard myself sob, regardless of the fact that Ichigo already had.

My chest heaved with labored, heavy breaths as I tried to clear my head free of the haze. This was _wrong_. How could I have let us do something so…_improper_? This was a travesty of the sacred bond between a lieutenant and his captain.

Oh my God…what have I _done_?

Something wet splashed on my cheeks.

My eyes flew open at once, only to see Ichigo looking away gruffly, his mouth pressed together in anger. That much, I understood, but his _eyes_…

Ichigo was _crying_, I realized painfully.

Without consciously thinking to do so, I lifted a hand and touched the warm, wet tracks on my captain's cheeks. Yes, he was crying. I could feel his tears on my fingertips. And more warm drops continued to all down on my face, joining my own expression of anguish.

"Do you have any…idea how much…that hurt?" he asked breathlessly, not looking at me. His teeth dug into his lower lips as he tried to control himself. "Do you, Izuru? Seeing you lying on the floor like that, your blood pooling on the ground… _Why_?"

I sucked in a deep breath at the sharp question, my head shaking from side to side mechanically. "I…d-don't…"

Ichigo looked back down on me, his dark eyes burning through me. "I…"

When he didn't say anything at once, I realized with a shocking suddenness that I was almost entirely naked…and _under_ my captain. Under _Ichigo_.

The dark, almost black, kimono I was wearing was open all the way to my navel. The opposite colors only emphasized the paleness of my skin, and the expanse of my exposure. Only a few vestiges of mercy by some _kami_ unknown to me made it so that the flimsy hospital gown's flap was draped over the most private part of my body. And it wouldn't take much to divest me of this last inch of modesty that I have left—even a weak breeze would do the job.

I looked back up at Ichigo, only to find that his eyes haven't left my face at all. His expressions remained the same as before, but tears never really stopped falling from those lovely eyes.

"I _want_ you, Izuru," he whispered. "I want you so bad."

He disappeared from my sight for a moment as new tears welled over my eyes, blurring my vision to the point I couldn't see anything anymore.

"_Don't_…" I said, blinking the tears away—they trickled down to my ears hotly. "I'm not…_worth_ it."

Ichigo's breath hitched in his throat with a loud sound, and his voice broke in all the worst places when he spoke next. "_Please_… I need _you_, Izuru. I _need_ you so _much_…"

I bit back sobs and pained groans and reciprocations—I couldn't _give in_. One of us has got to tough this out and be strong. I _have_ to…

"_Stop it_," I hissed at him.

For a short moment, I thought I have succeeded—Ichigo's expressions hollowed, like I have just dealt him a fatal blow. With wide eyes, he slowly pulled himself off me and stood up. His expressions were a mix of pain, disbelief and shock as he stared at me, his arms hanging lifelessly at his sides.

I sat up slowly, my eyes never leaving Ichigo's unnaturally pale face. Ichigo…_crying_ for me. He just stood there in pure black, his haori forgotten on the back of a chair somewhere in the room. His beautiful body was quivering…trembling. I wanted to hug him, but I _mustn't_. I wanted to stand up and comfort him, but I _shouldn't._ I wanted to kiss him again, but for the love of gods, I…

"_Izuru_…" he breathed before breaking into a sob.

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at Ichigo and realized that I had to stop this before anything could even start. He was already breaking before my eyes…it shouldn't take much more in order to kill the seeds. Just a _bit_ more… I can't stop now.

More tears welled in his eyes. "I can't…I _can't_ take it anymore…" he gasped.

For a moment, I thought I _did_ it. But of course I was wrong—I could have never been _more_ wrong.

"I'm _in love_ with you…Izuru."

All breath was wrenched out of my body in one shocked gasp. "_W-wha_—"

His equally swollen lips barely even moved, but I heard his broken voice loud and clear from where I was. It was too loud—I felt like my eardrums would explode from the loudness of it, echoing around the room, inside my head, mercilessly…

"I'm in love with you…"

My head started shaking in denial mechanically, my eyes frozen on Ichigo's form, half-hidden in the dark. "_No_…"

"Izuru…" His hands were shaking on his sides. "I'm in love with you."

I stood up without even meaning to—everything around me was spinning violently. What was he _saying_… This wasn't real, right? It can't be _real_…it just _can't_ be. _HOW COULD I BREAK HIS HEART IF IT MEANT BREAKING MY OWN AS WELL?_

Ichigo's head hung down, his eyes on the floor. Tears splashed on the wood with soft, _deafening_ sounds. "I'm…_in love with you_."

"_Stop saying that_!" I screamed.

Ichigo's body jerked, like I have hit him physically. He bit back a sob, but not the words… "I'm…in…love…with…you."

"_Goddamn it, Ichigo_!" I slammed myself into him and shut him up with my own mouth. "Just _shut up_…"

I wasn't gentle about it, just as Ichigo wasn't resisting me at all—he wasn't even _moving_. He just took my assault with muffled sobs.

I could taste the salt of his tears on my tongue as I attacked his mouth, kissing him viciously, biting until his lip bled. The metallic taste mingled with the salt, but I took it all hungrily. I licked and sucked until the blood was gone, then I pulled back, coaxing him to _look_ at me.

After staring at me dejectedly, Ichigo's lips moved again, bleeding slightly when the movement pulled at the shallow cut on his lower lip. "_I'm in love with you_."

I truly started crying now. I made no more effort to hold back the anguished sounds, the sobs, the overflowing tears… It made no difference anyway. We were both past the point of no return now. What's done was done—there was no going back anymore.

Standing on my toes, I slowly put my mouth on the warm spot under Ichigo's jaw, burying my nose on his jugular. I brushed my lips once on the pulsing stretch of skin, then I opened my mouth and started sucking.

I licked, I sucked, and I bit until a deep mark had appeared on his neck, until I was sure that the natural design would not fade away for days. Then I pressed my lips against his ear and whispered, "You can't _love_ me, Ichigo… You just _can't_…"

I saw a lot of emotions play on his face as I dropped back down to my feet.

Anger.

Confusion.

Disbelief.

But what shocked me was the intense pain I could see. How can he feel that much _pain_ over me? It was incomprehensible. Impossible.

"But I already do…" he murmured, his expressions contorting into a mask of pure agony.

My hand clapped over my mouth as I realized he was saying the truth… "_Oh God… No…_"

Ichigo swayed weakly on the spot. "Do you…_hate me that bad_?"

My eyes widened, but no words made it past my lips, even as I watched with sickening clarity as Ichigo's expressions slowly settled into understanding…and _heartbreak_.

"_Why_?" he asked me, his eyes pleading.

Tears fell down my cheeks relentlessly as I forced the rest of my expressions into difference. This would be for the best. "I'm sorry."

Ichigo stepped to me slowly, then leaned over me, his lips brushing over mine lightly…giving me the chance to decide one last time.

His selflessness was crushing me where I stood, so I made up my mind. I steeled myself and made up my goddamned mind.

I pushed Ichigo away and stood straight, bringing myself to my fullest height. I stared at him with the most piercing gaze I have ever given anyone. I raised my hand before me, as if reaching for him…

"_Bakudou no rokujuusan, Sajou Sabaku!_"

Thick chains of golden light flew out from behind me and wrapped around Ichigo's frozen form tightly. I did not miss the betrayed look in his eyes as I pulled my kimono around me slowly.

"I'm sorry…" I breathed, walking over to the window numbly.

"W-w…" he breathed, but I just shook my head at him.

"_It's too late_," I whispered.

Then I jumped out the window, leaving my broken captain behind.

* * *

**Next on "A Captain's Promise":**

"_I don't have time to play games with you, Byakuya," I growled, putting the expensive and fragile cup down. He looked up at me contemplatively, then shook his head. "You are so dense, Kurosaki Ichigo. Must I really tell you what you should already know?"_


End file.
